Destiny: The Planet Crackers
by Jammer69er
Summary: The Taken King is gone, but there is always work for the City's Guardians. And now a new threat looks poised to destroy our very galaxy.
1. On Patrol

**Destiny: The Planet Crackers  
**

 **Disclaimer: Destiny and its associated universe, characters etc, are property of Bungie. All original characters etc are my property.  
**

 **Prologue**

 _Much has come and gone since humanity first landed on Mars, first invoked the Traveller's Light and ushered in their Golden Age. The Darkness came, destroyed our civilisation, and pushed what remained back to Earth, where the remnants now cower in the shadow of the Traveller, which sacrificed itself to help us._

 _Then the Guardians came, blessed with the Traveller's light, heading out across the galaxy, pushing back the armies of the Darkness with bullet, knife, the Void, and even brute strength, giving us hope for the future. Eventually, a brave fireteam of Guardians travelled into the very heart of the Black Garden, and dispelled the evil which dwelled there. And then on the Moon, the son of the dreaded Oryx threatened to devour the realm of Light, until his soul was scattered back into the Ascendant realm, and then his physical form was pursued there and utterly destroyed._

 _And then the Taken King came himself, on his Dreadnought of immense power and accompanied by an army of Taken slaves. He stood poised to drown our world and everything else in this galaxy in the Darkness, to claim vengeance for his slain son. But he too was denied on his own ship, and the king fled into the Ascendant realm like his spawn before him. But he too – thanks to the efforts of the City's Guardians – was tracked down and destroyed._

 _Humanity is once more saved, but danger still lurks out within the stars and planets of the Milky Way. The Taken King's servants remain behind, spreading their blight across every planet they walk upon. The Fallen remain as persistent scavengers as they look to rebuild their former glory, the Hive continue to seethe and fester on the Moon, the Vex spread their influence across Venus and Mars, and the Cabal resume their relentless mission to conquer the Red Planet. There is still much for the budding Guardian to accomplish._

 _But now a new threat approaches. One that threatens to shatter our galaxy entirely._

 **Chapter 1: On Patrol**

 _ **Ocean of Storms, the Moon**_

Even with the threat of Crota gone, danger still lurked up here on the dusty surface of the Moon. For instance, on this very day, at this very moment, a band of Fallen searched through the empty shell of a small residential facility that lay within the shadow of the massive accelerator that dominated most of this part of the orb.

They were of the House of Exiles – mainly Dregs in their threadbare clothes and docked lower arms, though the group was lead by a mighty Captain in a shimmering arc shield, its swords sheathed at its waist. In its peculiar clicking language, it commanded the Dregs to fan out and search the slope just beneath the building, while a pair of Vandals with Wire Rifles stood guard on the roof.

Four hundred yards further up the slope, they failed to notice the cloaked figure who crouched behind a pair of large rocks, the extended barrel of a sniper rifle pointing down the slope. The viewfinder clicked and whirred as it zoomed in on the figures below. The Dregs, digging through rocks and trash like stray dogs as the Captain stood over them, clicking away.

"You ready guys?" the figure spoke into his comms link.

"Ready," came a male voice.

"In position," chimed a female voice which sounded artificial. "What's the signal, Logan?"

"When I take my shots," the cloaked figure replied, settling in for the shot. "There's a pair of Vandals on the roof, with Wire Rifles. I know how much you hate them, Griff."

"Don't remind me," growled the other male. "Let's get this show on the road, Logan."

"Patience is a virtue, Griff," chided the female voice, though she didn't get a response as Logan prepared his first shot. He settled the glowing crosshairs over the helmet of the leftmost Vandal, as it took one hand off of its rifle and raised the weapon up into the air. Logan smirked and held his breath for a couple of beats.

He squeezed the trigger, and the helmet of the first Vandal erupted into the white flash of ether being unleashed, its piercing shriek ringing out across the Moon's atmosphere even as Logan fixed his second target and fired again, destroying a second skull. And it was at that moment the other members of his Fireteam chose to strike.

From further down the slope a Titan in his bulky, implacable armour burst out from behind a huge boulder and tossed a grenade into the middle of the largest group of Dregs, the blast tossing a couple of bodies into the air and sending the others scrambling for cover and shrieking. The Captain drew his blades, bellowing a challenge.

Then a Warlock in purple robes came out from the nearest corner of the building, firing a hand cannon which discharged with a booming retort at every trigger pull, sending Dregs sprawling away. And then she was leaping high above the heads of the remaining Fallen, dropping a Fusion grenade that stuck to the shield of the Captain and then detonated, collapsing the arc bubble and leaving the creature badly wounded.

And then the Titan was jogging sideways, firing an auto rifle from the hip, cutting down a few more Dregs. The last one was trying to throw a shock grenade, but took a hit to the chest and twisted away at an awkward angle, the grenade sailing out of its hand and out of sight. Then the Titan caught up to the Captain and smashed his right forearm into the centre of the alien's chest as it tried to swing its swords. There was a sickening crack as its breastplate and sternum cracked, and it stumbled back as though pulled by a chain, chittering as it went.

The Warlock landed gracefully, then swept her arm around, firing off the last of her hand cannon shells, dropping the last two Dregs with a single shot each. As she was reloading, the Captain was scrambling back to its feet, a growl building in its throat. Then a third sniper round blew off its head and its body crashed into the Moon surface, its cloak fluttering limply after it.

"All clear," called Griff the Titan, as he kicked at the nearest Dreg corpse, and then reloaded his auto rifle.

"Nice shooting, Tex," chuckled the Warlock as she began to search through the bodies for any valuable loot, turning up a set of Ether Seeds on the Captain's corpse.

"Why thank you El," replied Logan from his sniper perch, watching his companions through the scope. "Just don't go saving all of the good loot for yourselves, right?"

"No promises," replied Griff as he turned up a blue engram sphere that had spilled out of one of the fallen Dregs and had nearly been lost in the cracks between some smaller rocks. "Oh, some more goods for Lord Rahool."

Logan didn't reply to that as he played his scope left and right, searching for any potential threats that were creeping up on his comrades – he'd had enough close calls with the stealth tech of the damned scavengers. He didn't see any of the distortion that marked the use of stealth technology but he did see something else.

He could see the very slight tremors which disturbed the cluster of moon rocks he was spying on with his scope. He plied it to the left and picked a new pile, which was also vibrating. And then further beyond that, he could see a small, darkened opening into the side of a large mound. And see the lights coming up towards them.

No, not lights. They were eyes exuding a malicious light.

"Guys, heads up!" he called, settling his scope on the fissure already as the lights grew brighter. "Looks like the fight riled somebody else up!" The other two Guardians dropped what they were doing and swept up with their weapons drawn as a new sound reached their ears – a screeching, hissing note of pure malice.

And then the wraith-like, clawed figures were pouring out of the fissure, screaming towards the Guardians en mass.

 _Hive. Figures though, being close to the Hellmouth._

Logan's first shot exploded the skull of the leading Thrall in the group and pierced straight through the two behind that one, leaving crumbled piles of ash as the creatures died. And then his companions were opening up, cutting down more and more of them in an instant. Thralls shrieked and crumbled as bullets tore through them, spinning some off of their feet or knocking others flat onto their backs.

Then behind the Thralls, Acolytes were coming out into view, firing their weapons as they raced for the nearest cover. Logan nailed three more with expert headshots until his rifle clicked on empty, and then he was grabbing for a spare magazine only to find that he was fresh out.

" _Shit!"_

"Uh, swear jar Logan," called a cherry artificial voice. "I do keep telling you to top up on your ammo synthesis supplies before we head out on patrol"-

"Can it," snapped Logan, putting the rifle away and grabbing for his scout rifle instead. He pulled back the bolt to load a round and he was vaulting over the rocks, rushing down in the direction of the mayhem.

The Warlock had taken cover as she snapped off shots from her hand cannon, but Griff was advancing straight at the Hive forces, firing his Invective shotgun as he advanced. Each booming retort tore through ash and bone, Thrall and Acolyte alike screaming as they were torn apart. His shield flickered and warped as purple shots impacted, but he didn't even slow down. A Thrall lunged at him with its claws bared, and he bought his forearm up, the claws scrabbling against the smooth surface of the forearm plate. Then with a grunt he turned his body and tossed it against the nearest rock, breaking most of its bones with a brutal crack.

"Well this turned into a lovely day," he remarked flatly as he spun his shotgun around and loaded fresh shells into the breech, taking cover beside a rock as he did so. By then the Thralls were almost wiped out and only Acolytes were pouring out of the fissure. But by the Traveller, there were a lot of them.

"Just keep shooting!" yelled the Warlock as she reloaded her cannon and resumed firing. She tossed a Fusion Grenade and it stuck to the chest of a screeching Acolyte which stumbled away in its haste to escape and took several of its fellows with it as it disintegrated. But the others continued to fight on, as the last Acolyte was followed by a floating nightmare of rag and bone.

" _Wizard!"_ she cried.

"I got it, I got it!" cried Logan over the comms. Then the Hunter was sliding to a halt behind a fallen water barrel, the barrel of his scout rifle aimed over the top. He fired off a few shots and the Wizard's solar shield flickered, and then the creature was floating away out of his line of sight, so Logan readjusted his aim and dropped a few Acolytes with headshots, and he was vaulting the barrel, chasing the Wizard down. It was typical of Logan's combat style – constantly on the move. "Cover me!" he called as he ran on, darting in between a pair of Acolytes that swivelled rapidly to track him.

"Covering!" the Warlock called out sharply, thrusting an open palm into a Thrall's chest and throwing its body back as it slowly disintegrated from the Energy Drain. A short distance away Griff was out of shotgun shells so he was wielding it like a club instead, smashing the stock into the side of Acolyte skulls and ribs, sending them flying from the sheer strength of the impacts. Then once there was some space cleared he was rushing forwards again, around the side of a rock the Acolytes were cowering behind and smashing into their flank, tearing a few of them asunder with his bare hands.

A hundred yards away Logan dove to the side as crackling bolts of arc energy lashed past his head, the Wizard rising higher as more Thralls were being drawn out by the dark magic, pulling themselves free from tears and fissures in the moon rock. Logan drew his curved knife in his free hand and slashed left and right, cutting open the neck of one Thrall and planting the blade through the chest of a second. He ripped it free and dropped into a roll to avoid the next blast of Hive magic and he fired off a few shots, all of them hitting the target but being absorbed by the Wizard's shield.

"Come on, come on," he willed quietly as the ammo readout showed he only had three shots left, but he saw the creature preparing to launch another volley of bolts. He set the crosshairs and fired.

The first shot shattered its shields and made it shriek. The second shot caught it high on the forehead above its right eye, distorting its skull. The final shot hit it in the exact same spot and its skull just distorted entirely, and with a pained shriek it crumbled like all the others.

"Wizard down!" Logan barked into his comms.

"Well that's good," the Warlock answered, "because things have just gone from bad to worse." Logan glanced back over his shoulder, and judging by the amount of gunfire he could hear that wasn't just an idle statement.

"Crap," Logan said, and then realised that the Wizard had dropped some green synthesized ammo. "Perfect," he whispered, snatching it up and grabbing for a fresh sniper rifle clip as it formed from out of nowhere. He slammed it home as he ran back towards the battle.

He came upon his two companions in the middle of battling a trip of Knights that had emerged from the Hive tunnel since Logan had been taking out that Wizard. Two of them were armed with swords while the third was launching starfire from its Boomer as it hid behind a larger outcrop. The Warlock hit one of the sword wielders with three shots to the stomach, but then it threw up its shield and she unloaded the rest of her ammo towards the Boomer Knight. It stumbled and roared as the heavy rounds punched through it, leaving it staggered, but then the sword Knight had dropped its shield and was advancing again.

"Griff!" she called out, backing away frantically and unslinging her fusion rifle. "Little help!"

"Bit busy myself Elena!" he shouted back as he wrestled with the second sword Knight which was trying to bring its blade down on the Titan's head while he pushed back against its solid forearms, feet planted in the dust. The blade came down lower to his helm, and the Knight let out a growl of sick pleasure.

There was the crack of a sniper rifle, and a tracer round punched into the side of the Knight's head and it grunted as it jerked sideways. With the force slackened, Griff pushed back and the Knight stumbled, and then he snapped its forearms with a sideways jerk of his arms, snatched the heavy blade from its hands and sliced it through the Knight's neck, turning it to ash. Then he was hefting the blade up and slashing through the bodies of two Acolytes as he ran to help Elena.

But the sniper rifle cracked again and the second sword Knight had its head taken off in a burst of light and it crumbled to ash like its brother, as Elena finished reloading her hand cannon and snapped the revolver shut. With a sigh she just shifted her aim and shot off the head of the third and final Knight as it came out of cover.

"Thanks for the assist, Griff," she said sarcastically.

"Hey, I was almost there," the Titan protested, though he was busying himself in hacking through the remainder of the Thrall presence. "I swear. Some Hunter had to ruin my fun though!" he added, preparing to split another Thrall from head to navel until another sniper shot punched it off its feet and the blade harmlessly _thunked_ into the dust.

"You're welcome," Logan said cheerfully over the comm as he hunted for his next target. He settled on the grimace of an Acolyte and took its face off with a single hit.

There was another minute or so of auto rifle chatter, the crack of a sniper rifle and the aggressive bark of a hand cannon, and then it was all quiet as the last remaining Hive were cleaned up. Logan walked into view from behind a large rock, reloading his sniper rifle and storing it away at the same time a small point of light formed into the form of a Ghost, its shell painted with the Vanguard colours. It fluttered this way and that in the air beside Logan, its blue beam scanning as it went.

"Detecting the presence of a fresh Hive tomb just under our feet," it stated after a moment. "Those Hive...you'd think they would lie low for a while after two of their Gods were killed."

"They need to rebuild even more than ever after that," Elena reasoned as she checked for any good loot, turning up a twinkling blue engram sphere. "Their Gods were shattered but they still have their faith."

"Good for them," said Griff bluntly as he searched over the remains of the Knights and found a blue engram of his own. "Just means we have more to stomp when we get bored again."

"Well yes there's that," Logan reasoned as he walked in. "You guys alright?"

"More or less," the Warlock, Elena, answered.

"Okay well let's do a quick sweep and get back home," Logan ordered, taking up his scout rifle.

"But...what about the Hive tomb?" asked his Ghost as he spun around, the plates surrounding his core clicking and whirring as they formed a questioning expression. Or as close to a questioning expression that a small floating ball of machinery and Light could achieve.

"Send the data to the Vanguard, Kal," Logan ordered, shaking his head. "We got surprised here and were lucky it wasn't a bigger force that attacked. I don't want to go down that tunnel without knowing what we could face. Let the Vanguard decide – they'll probably put up a bounty up anyway.

"As you wish," Kal responding, floating away to send the data on. Behind the tiny Ghost, the rest of the Fireteam sifted through the wreckage of the fight and anything else left over, turning up a few items of note, but not much. Elena glanced at Griff, who just shook his head, and then they looked at Logan.

"All done?" asked Logan. They both nodded.

"Then let's go home, people."

Within seconds all three of them had transmatted up to their ships in low orbit of the Moon, reforming from a burst of white light to become nestled into the worn leather of the pilot seats. In his own ship, Logan let out a short sigh of relief as he reached up and removed his visor, setting it into the depression on the left side of his seat, taking a moment to regard his reflection in the glass.

He would have been in his early thirties at the time of his original 'death' centuries ago, and thanks to the Traveller's gifts he would always look that young. His hair was light blonde and mid-length, the outline of a goatee beard starting to form on his chin, his eyes a light blue. 'Blue as the ocean', an old friend had once told him. A now departed friend, but a veteran Guardian had many of those.

"Everyone set?" he asked into the general comms link, peering at the display which showed the relevant positions of his comrades who both hung behind him, forming a loose triangle formation with Logan's ship at the very front.

"All set," chimed the Warlock.

"Aye," said Griff, his voice tight and clipped.

"Alright then," nodded Logan, hitting some keys on his control panel. "Entering slip space. Course set for the Tower. Move through on my lead."

"You got it," Elena replied, and within the next second all three ships were rushing into a small tear within space, entering slipspace. They were headed back to Earth, back home.

Back to the Tower, where the fight continued.

 **A/N: Hello everyone! So this is just the first quick chapter of my planned Destiny fanfic. I played a HELL of a lot Destiny over the last couple of years, and after finishing off The Taken King expansion I was eager to write something on it. I am aware of the general makeup of Destiny's universe, though of course there is bound to be some mistakes here and there, so I would appreciate some help in rooting the inconsistences out. Otherwise, please R & R, let me know what you think. **


	2. A Guardian's Work

**Chapter 2: A Guardian's Work...**

 _ **The Last City, Earth**_

The return trip barely took them five minutes, and soon enough three tiny ships were swooping low, in formation, over a rocky mountain range, passing them by quickly enough and then coming down across vast plains towards the twinkling lights of an immense city that waited in the distance, surrounded by massive walls. And hanging above all of it was a white sphere, almost as large as the city itself. Though imposing, its surface was marked with considerable damage, from where its shell had been broken open once, and then scoured by flames and smoke. Scars of an ancient battle.

The Traveller. Even today the City's finest scholars had no answer as to what the Traveller was meant to be. All that people knew was that the Traveller was discovered on Mars centuries past, and it shared its secrets with us. Humanity ushered in a Golden Age and pushed out across the stars, terraformed planets, founded new civilisations. But then the Darkness came and the Traveller sacrificed itself to save what remained of our once proud race. It had hung over the City ever since, protecting us. Or perhaps it was waiting for some grand event, and then everything would change once more.

Only the Speaker knew for sure.

After the three ships were docked, Logan lead Griff and Elena out of the docks, back towards the main foyer of the Tower. They passed by shipwright Amanda Holliday who was looking over the latest incoming shipments of foodstuffs and other essentials for the Guardians, and she glanced up briefly as Logan passed, trailed by the others. She gave him a smile and he flashed a quick wink back in reply. She just shook her head slowly and went back to her work as the fireteam went up the stairs leading out of the hangar. All around them, service Frames and other Guardians moved to and fro. Some of the latter greeted the fireteam as they passed.

All of them had removed their helmets, and one could see that of the three, only Logan was human.

To his left was Griffin, more commonly known as Griff to his friends. Griff was an Awoken, one of those born at the edge of where Light and Darkness meet, in the distant Reef. He had the same ash-coloured skin that many Awoken shared, his hair black as night and his eyes a fierce yellow. He stood just over six feet five inches, towering over his companions and most other Guardians they knew, so he was well-suited to his role as a Titan. His armour was gleaming plasteel, shaded to that of the Old Guard in black and grey.

Elena, meanwhile, wasn't even organic to begin with. She was an Exo, one of those highly-advanced self-aware machines built long ago to fight some ancient war that none alive could recall. Her full name was Elena-4, a sign of her relative youth among her kind: the higher numbers indicated older Exos. Her body plating was dark blue, her eyes and mouth a contrasted red, the curve of her 'skull' dotted with dozens of neural studs. Like any good Warlock, she prided the search and acquisition of new knowledge above most other things, and she spent a considerable portion of her time in the old archives of Old Acre, or assiting the Cryptarchs of the Tower in unravelling the secrets of lost civilisations. Yet anytime Fireteam Onyx went to war, she answered.

Fireteam Onyx. Of the countless fireteams of Guardians that had fought across the galaxy, that one name inspired a considerable amount of praise and awe from the others, especially the new recruits.

They stepped out onto the grand plaza of the Tower, which looked out over the City itself. Once upon a time, mankind stretched out across the stars themselves, to Mars and beyond. But now that was all gone, distilled into this one sprawling metropolis, inside of the hundred-foot walls which hadn't been breached once in their history. In the shadow of the Traveller – or in the occasional isolated settlement out in the wastes – mankind endured. The plaza was busy as ever, with groups of Guardians rushing to and fro, conversing in groups, gathering at the Cryptarch's stall, the bounty board or the Gunsmith's place. A few others were just standing and looking around in wonder, or staring out over the City and the Traveller which hovered above it all.

"They're still finding new blood," Griff observed, watching the nearest Guardian who was looking about in awe. "You'd think that there would be no more to find."

"There's always more to be found," Elena replied, looking up at the imposing shape of the Traveller. "Just because Oryx and the others are gone doesn't mean that we're any safer."

Logan just nodded to himself in response. She was right in that regard. The Guardians of the Tower had achieved much over the last two years, from dispelling the Heart of Darkness which resided at the centre of the Black Garden on Mars, through to preventing the uprising of the renegade Fallen House of Wolves, and most recently, they had driven back the vile Taken and their king, Oryx, father of Crota and one of the Hive pantheon's Gods.

Fireteam Onyx had been at the heart of several of these victories. They had penetrated the Garden, they had felled Crota and then Oryx himself, even though it had cost them dearly-

"You okay Logan?"

"What?" he said, looking down at Elena as she watched him with those red eyes.

"You zoned out there for a bit."

"Sorry. Just thinking about what we've gained. What we've lost."

Elena looked away and Griff just sighed quietly. They both knew what he meant exactly.

"Anyways," Logan announced stretching his arms high above his head. "I'll go and settle things with the Vanguard. Maybe they'll have another mission for us into the bargain."

"A Guardian's work," said Elena.

"…is never done," finished Griff, giving a wry smile. "Okay then, we'll just meet you back in the usual spot?"

"Sure," nodded Logan, then turned and strode away, towards the back of the plaza, past the crowds of gathered Guardians, down towards the Vanguard hall. He passed through the office which served as the centre of operations for the Crucible where Guardians sparred with one another, and through to the large hall that served as the centre of the Vanguard's operation, from where they gathered their intelligence and then sent out Guardians into the wild, and where the new blood was accepted and trained.

There were there Vanguard mentors in total, one each for Hunters, Titans, and Warlocks. Each was meant to represent the absolute best of their chosen discipline, an absolute paragon to inspire those that served beneath them. They clustered around a huge table, piled high with data slates and piles of written reports from countless Guardians in the field, and old faded maps of various regions on Earth and beyond. There was always so much to do.

One of them – a hooded Exo with blue face-plating poring over a large, tattered map – suddenly glanced up at his approach. "Oh hey, look – the wunderkid's here."

Cayde-6, the Hunter Vanguard. Perhaps the most unconventional of all the mentors, but then again the Hunters weren't exactly conventional Guardians in how they went about their business. Suffice to say, Cayde had been a superb mentor to Logan and countless others who had come through before and after. He was only in the role on account of the fabled 'Vanguard Dare' that he had lost, but he served faithfully all the same (even though he was eager to go out into the wild and back into the fight, a fact he imparted to nearly every Guardian he spoke with).

"Ah yes," smiled the dark-skinned woman in purple opposite Cayde. "And still in one piece too, Logan. I'm glad that the Fallen and the Hive still don't offer you and your team too much difficulty."

Ikora Ray, the Warlock Vanguard. As obsessed with the acquirement of knowledge as those that served beneath her, but in her youth she was supposedly a fearless and aggressive warrior who forged her own path across the stars, preferring her own company to that of others. Logan couldn't imagine that though – the whole time he had known Ikora he'd always seen her as perpetually calm and level-headed, even compared with her Titan counterpart.

"Thank you Ikora," Logan nodded and smiled. "But no, they weren't a threat to us. There isn't that much left up there for the Fallen anyway, not after how much time has passed."

"Even so," said a calm voice form the head of the table, spoken by a blue-skinned, hairless Awoken in the segmented armour of a Titan, "we've seen that the Fallen can survive all manner of tragedies. The House of Devils still harry us, for instance."

Zavala was the Titan Vanguard, and overall commander of the Vanguard itself. A great hero from the Battle of Twilight Gap long ago, Zavala now lead the City's Guardian forces in their fight back against the Darkness, and also acting as mentor to the Titans. He fulfilled both roles by wielding the dual notions of honour and duty as he went. Softly-spoken as all other Awoken were, Zavala was nevertheless a great warrior…or rather he had been. Logan and most other Guardians had never seen him a fight to confirm or deny that.

"Don't remind me, Commander," Logan sighed. "But on topic, did you look over the data that Kal sent onto you on that Hive tomb we disturbed?" At the mention of his name, Logan's Ghost materialised into being, fluttering around the Hunter's shoulders, his eye plates forming into what amounted to a pleased expression.

"We sure did," Cayde replied, tapping a pile of data slates beside him, "along with a dozen others. Today. Being Vanguard mentor isn't a walk in the park when it comes to the paperwork. Oh, the paperwork…"

"They're spreading that fast?" inquired Kal, sounding deflated.

"Even with two of their Gods dead?" Logan added for good measure, echoing his team's sentiments back on the moon.

"The Hive have an entire pantheon of Gods," Ikora stated, calm and level as always. "The Hive's faith is one of their strongest weapons. As long as it is maintained, they will always be a threat to us."

"…well as long as the next God to come along doesn't bring a Dreadnought and an army of brainwashed slaves with them," Cayde mumbled. Logan sniggered while Zavala just gave him a sharp look.

"…but we still thank you for your team's efforts, Logan," Ikora said quickly, salvaging the awkward situation, "and we'll be putting up new bounties in due course. There's still plenty of work for our Guardians to undertake."

"Glad to hear it," nodded Logan, and then he noticed how Cayde was glancing back and forth between Zavala and Ikora as though expecting them to say something. Logan was quiet for a few more seconds, and then he decided to take the bait.

"Okay, is there anything else?" he asked.

"Well, funny you should mention that," Cayde mumbled, leaning heavily on the table, propped up on his right elbow and looking directly at Zavala. "Are you going to tell him, Zavala, or will I?" The Titan Vanguard let out a sigh.

"As you wish, Cayde. Logan, there's another opportunity for Fireteam Onyx to serve the City," he explained vaguely. "Will they be up to the challenge?"

"Always, Commander," Logan announced.

Zavala nodded, and then indicated over towards the far window where a rotating holographic display of Earth was being attended to by a pair of Frames. "Come. We can discuss the matter there." He turned and made his way over, and Logan followed, with Kal fluttering along behind him. Behind them, Cayde watched them go, craning his neck to follow them.

"Okay then," he called out, "me and Ikora will just be over here then. You know…doing Vanguard stuff. Waiting for someone to need us again." Zavala just ignored him completely as he and Logan took up a position at the far window.

"Some days, I am tempted to throw Cayde out of this window," Zavala sighed, indicating the huge glass window which looked out across the wilderness that surrounded the City. "Without opening it beforehand."

"I don't know," Logan shrugged, "I mean, it's not as though you're drowning in applications for his position, and he has served faithfully for years. In his own unique manner, of course, but still…"

"Yes," Zavala dedpanned, "and don't think that we have forgotten that time he had you land on Oryx's dreadnought, _without_ authorisation, and without telling anybody else about it to begin with. Eris Morn still hasn't forgiven either of you for destroying her ship."

"Yes, but you do agree that we had to open up a beachhead on that ship sooner or later, right?" Logan countered and though Zavala's expression didn't change, he looked as though he was agreeing to Logan's view. "Besides," added the Hunter, "I told her I'd buy her a new one."

"Either way, we are not here to speak of your past choices," the Commander said, and then turned to the holographic display, pulling up the continent of what used to be called 'Europe' onto the display. "We're here to discuss something which…to be fair, has us all baffled."

"In what way?" asked Logan. The Commander tapped a few keys on the display's keypad and the view zoomed in onto a large island off of the North West corner of this 'Europe', where a flashing red spot illuminated one particular city. Or the remains of one at least. There were only remains left now.

"Over the last two weeks we've been intercepting a large number of transmission bursts from Old London," Zavala explained, pointing at the blinking dot.

"Old London?" asked Logan. "I've heard of it plenty, but Guardians have been prohibited from going there for decades, right?"

"That is correct," interjected Kal, buzzing around Logan's shoulders. "When the Fallen first came to Earth, the House of Falcons laid claim to the city. They were so thick there that any kind of Guardian intervention would have been blunted in an instant."

"We couldn't risk that kind of loss at the time," Zavala concurred. "At the time it was felt it was more important to concentrate on consolidating our defences in the City. Which mattered little, by the time the Fallen came to Twilight Gap." There seemed to be a note of regret in the Commander's voice, but he didn't dwell on it.

"But back to those transmissions. They were heavily encrypted and it took the Cryptarchs a long time to make any sense of it, but they eventually deduced they were Cabal in origin."

That statement made Logan sit up and pay closer attention. "The Cabal? On _Earth_? I'm sorry Commander, but I seriously doubt that. We've only ever seen the Cabal on Mars as long as I've been a Guardian. And how could they be on Earth anyway without us picking it up? After what happened with Oryx, they didn't exactly have the numbers."

That last part was practically common knowledge now, six months after Oryx had been slain. When the Taken King first came to the galaxy, his Taken army devasted the Cabal Skyburners base on Phobos, along with the other Cabal legions operating on Mars: the Sand Eaters, Dust Giants, even the Blind Legion. At the end of it all, all of them were under fifty percent fighting strength. And after the remaining Skyburners had crashed a ship onto the dreadnought to seek vengeance on Oryx, the rest of them were deprived of their leadership and then eventually wiped out in the space of two months.

"That may be so, but we all know just how destructive the Cabal can be, even when faced with overwhelming odds," Zavala countered. "And the remaining numbers on Mars are _still_ holding out. They've been there for decades and they'll likely stay there for decades more unless some small miracle happens."

"Well Onyx are all about small miracles, aren't we?" suggested Logan with a smile.

"That is true to some extent," Zavala said lightly, though he didn't smile. The Titan Vanguard never did. "The Black Garden, Crota…and Oryx himself. Impressive, for Guardians with such short careers. Which is why we wish to entrust this mission to you."

"And if I said no, who would you have asked next?" Logan asked curiously.

"Elijah."

Logan was quiet for a spell. "I see."

"Eli is as good as you are, Logan," Zavala reasoned. "You know Fireteam Opal has earned as much reputation as Onyx has done. And before…before what happened, both of you were working together were practically unstoppable. Even more so with Onyx and Opal combining their experience."

"Yes, we were," Logan sighed, "but too much has changed. It isn't happening, much as you all want it to." He glanced sideways at the others, saw them looking away. "I'm sorry."

"We're all sorry to hear that," Zavala said, and then immediately changed tack as though nothing had been mentioned. "So will Fireteam Onyx accept this mission?"

"We shall," Logan replied.

"I'm happy to hear that," nodded Zavala. "We all are, in fact," he added, indicating Ikora and Cayde with a sweep of his hand. The Hunter Vanguard raised his arm and gave a little wave. "I'm sure that Kal will be receiving the relevant data any moment now. Your main objective is to locate the source of these transmissions and ascertain their origin and exact nature, and then to take relevant action to cease them."

"Received," Kal chimed. "Relevant Cabal signals seem to be emanating from an area within the city commonly known as 'Hyde Park' in pre-Collapse times"-

"Thank you Kal, but we can worry about the particulars when we get there," Logan said, holding up a hand. "We can be setting off shortly, Commander."

"I'm glad to hear that, Logan," Zavala nodded. "We'll be in touch over the comms should you need us."

"I appreciate that, Commander," Logan nodded, "now if you will excuse me, I need to meet up with the others."

Ikora Ray just nodded and gave a slight smile. "May the Traveller watch over you, as always." Logan nodded in response.

"As always," he intoned.

"Uh, could I add something if no one minds?" Cayde spoke up, raising his hand like a child at school. Logan slowed down and came to a halt beside his mentor.

"So uh…I'm not all for these inspirational speeches like Zavala is, but I just wanted to tell you Logan that you're one of the best Hunters I've ever mentored, and how far it would set the Tower back if you got killed out there…so uh, try not to get yourself killed. Oh, and the same goes to Griff and Elena too, when you see them."

"Thanks…I guess," Logan answered with a smile, and turned away to leave.

"Oh, and my offer still stands," Cayde called out, which made Logan pause briefly. He took in a quick breath, and then walked out of the hall without stopping, trying not to think about that offer. He made it most of the way through the Crucible Hall before he nearly walked head first into a trio of Guardians coming his way.

The one leading them was an Awoken a couple of inches taller than Logan, his skin ash grey and his hair black as night, with glittering blue eyes that regarded the Hunter with the look of someone considering a pile of dirt they had just stepped in. He was flanked by a Titan and a Warlock. The former was a female human with blue eyes and a shock of vibrant red hair, and the latter was an Exo with gunmetal grey 'skin' and yellow eyes that bore through Logan with considerable intensity.

"Eli," said Logan levelly.

"Logan," the Awoken responded, just as levelly.

Ellijah – Eli to those who knew him – famed Hunter, Bane of the Vex, and leader of Fireteam Opal, one of the more in demand fireteams on the Tower, perhaps almost as popular as Logan's Fireteam Onyx was. Unlike Logan who preferred to fight at a distance, Eli was known for getting up close and personal with the enemy. His knife alone had slaughtered fifty Vex on Venus in the space of three hours. Most thought that was just a colourful story whipped up to inspire the new Guardian recruits, but Logan knew the truth. He had seen the aftermath, in that overgrown creek bed on the edge of Vex territory. White fluid spilled like water across the rocks and trees and the grass.

The three of them passed by Logan without another word, though the yellow-eyed Exo continued to glare at Logan for a couple seconds longer and then strode on. Logan watched them go briefly, and then he sighed and walked on, remembering to take Kal's advice and stop by the Gunsmith's stall to top up on his special ammo syntheses.

* * *

He found Griff and Elena in the 'usual spot', which to those not in the know, was within a closed-off section of the Tower, beyond the Speaker's study, overlooking the City far below. They had discovered it one day by chance, over a year ago, and now it served as their normal rendezvous and space where they could get away from the hustle and bustle of the plaza. It was a small plaza itself, roughly thirty feet square in size, littered with construction materials – apparently, this part of the Tower had suffered some damage during the Battle of Twilight Gap, and had never been repaired since as other more urgent projects and builds took precedence.

His two team mates were perched high up, on a steel beam that crossed a horizontal span between two support pillars. They were talking between one another as two dots buzzed around their head, except that they weren't dots, they were Ghosts. Griff's was painted turquoise and was known as Garl, while Elena's was painted bright red and responded to the name Scarlet, which seemed appropriate enough.

"Hey," Logan called out, and then promptly grabbed onto a nearby pole and shimmed up to their level, hopping over with the practiced ease of someone who spent most of their time moving swiftly over all kinds of terrain. He sat down beside Elena, and then dangled his legs freely as Kal emerged, flittering around with Garl and Scarlet. The three tiny machines communicated with bursts of binary code that was incomprehensible to the Guardians.

"So, what did the Vanguard offer us?" Elena asked.

"What makes you think they offered us anything?" Logan asked innocently.

"Because they always offer us things to do?" Griff suggested at the far end. "Because Onyx is always the first port of call for their critical missions? And it must be one of those owing to the look on your face."

"Yes," conceded Logan, staring out over the glittering lights below, and the Traveller above. "They want us to go to Old London, investigate some signals they've been intercepting there."

"Old London?" asked Elena. "I…I became a Guardian there."

"Really?" asked Logan. He'd never heard that from her before.

"Yes," added Scarlet, drifting close, the plates around its 'eye' clicking to form an eager expression. The Ghost's voice was more feminine than Kal and Garl's, more appropriate for its name. "I spent the best part of a decade searching for my Guardian, and then the Traveller showed me towards Elena, a destroyed Exo rotting in the back corner of some forgotten old warehouse."

"What it was like?" asked Griff.

"I don't remember much," Elena shrugged, "just a lot of ruins. And Fallen. A _lot_ of Fallen. And me running like hell."

"Sounds like me and Kal at the old comosdrome in Old Russia... those Fallen were from the House of Falcons, right? Sounded dangerous, the way the Vanguard were going on about them."

"Yes," nodded Elena, fixing him with those red eyes. "They are. They have the numbers and the experience. Most of them were Vandals at least, and then above them a lot of Captains and Barons. And they were absolutely viscous too, even by the standards of their kind. No wonder the Vanguard made it a no-go zone."

"And yet they're sending us there anyway," Griff sighed.

"They've got good reason," Logan countered, "because those signals have the Cabal signature." They all sat in silence for a while, to let that information sink in.

"Cabal?" asked Elena. "On Earth?"

"But the Cabal have never been seen on Earth," interjected Garl as the Ghost flittered in, circling its master's head. "Since Oryx devastated their numbers, they've been trying to consolidate their positions on Mars."

"True," Griff nodded, "so they wouldn't have any chance to attempt a mission to Earth anyways. And if they did then we would have picked them up before they even broke through the atmosphere."

"Well maybe not but the Vanguard are concerned enough to have us take a look," Logan countered, "and besides – if I had said no they would have just given it to Eli and Fireteam Opal anyway."

There was a brief silence, and then Griff broke it. "Eli?"

"Yes," Logan said, tersely. "Zavala told me as much, and then on my way out I nearly walked right into them. All of them."

"Couldn't have been easy," Elena reasoned.

"No. Frosty doesn't begin to cover it."

"Guess he won't be any happier when he finds out we just swiped a lucrative contract out from under them," Griff said. "So let's go now before it gets awkward."

"You both set?" asked Logan.

"We already saw Rahool and the others, so we're set if you are," Griff shrugged, and looked past the Hunter at Elena, who nodded in turn.

"Alright, then let's go do some sightseeing," Logan said. "If this turns out to be a wild goose chase you can show me the sights El."

The Exo made a grating, choking noise that amounted to her kind's form of laughter. "Deal."

Minutes later, three ships left the Tower's hangar, in formation, striking out over the glittering lights of the City itself. After a few seconds, their main drives lit up, and then they were gone with a subsonic bang of massive pressure. At the edge of the main balcony, Eli and his companions watched the ships leave with hard glares.

 **A/N: As per before, R &R as normal please. I appreciate all feedback, constructive or otherwise. Till the next time...**


	3. Ruins

**Chapter 3: Ruins**

 _ **Old London, Northwest of 'Europe'**_

Much like when they had returned from the Moon, the flight out only took a few minutes. Soon enough, three ships in formation were flying out over the south east corner of what used to be known as 'England', towards the remnants of its capital city. A thick blanket of low cloud covered most of the country, so their ships dipped in low, breaking through the grey mist.

All three of their Ghosts were excitedly chattering away to their masters in turn, filling each in on a very brief history of London. Essentially, this was once the capital city of England, up to the time of the Collapse. Throughout the Golden Age the city's area had expanded considerably from its original size, which included a considerable spaceport on the southern edge, from where colony ships would launch off to colonize other worlds.

Logan could see it from his viewing port now, or rather what was left of it. He could see a few of the massive frames for keeping the ships upright during launch, all of them empty. There were several wrecked colony ships down there too, and it reminded Logan of the comosdrome in Old Russia, where he had first started his Guardian career, two years ago.

He cast his gaze back North, to the city itself. He saw a sprawling metropolis straddling a river which twisted this way and that, separated roughly by North and South. To the North there were tight clusters of old stone and brick buildings, most of them unchanged for centuries, and to the South of the river he saw more modern skyscrapers, glass and steel, though many of them were badly damaged.

"…and the colony ship yard here was largely funded by the research conglomerate _Watson's Cybernetics_ who enjoyed a considerable monopoly amongst Golden Age tech in this part of the world…Logan, are you listening to me?"

"Hanging on your every word, Kal," Logan smiled, settling back into his seat and watching his controls for signs of impending AA attack. But there were no alarms or sirens blaring in his ears.

"No warnings for AA fire," Griff chimed through the speakers suddenly, echoing Logan's current thoughts. "I thought the Fallen had this city held down tightly."

"Me too," Elena added, "unless they're all hiding out of sight. Or maybe they already picked everything clean and moved on?"

"Really?" scoffed Griff. "The Cosmodrome is practically bare but the Devils and the Kings keep picking and picking away at it. They're worse than magpies. So I'm sure that London would last any self-respecting House a lot longer."

"Come on, when we touch down we'll find out soon enough," said Logan, cutting off the chatter. "Kal, how close can you get us down to Hyde Park?"

"Checking now," Kal's voice chimed, and then a few seconds later, "I'm seeing a relatively clear drop zone at the north end of Westminster Bridge. Most of the bridge is in the river now, but there should be enough space to drop all of you off. The roads are too clustered with traffic to drop you anywhere closer I'm afraid."

"Guess it'll have to do," Logan sighed. "Okay Onyx, you heard him. Set coordinates and be ready for touch down. We are entering potentially hostile territory."

"Copy that," Elena replied.

"Aye chief," said Griff.

* * *

Seconds later, the ships came in low above a bridge which had long ago collapsed into a black stripe of stagnant water once known as the River Thames, and there was the unmistakable white flash of a transmat taking place, and a split-second later all three were standing on the northern edge of Westminster Bridge, weapons in hand: scout rifle for Logan, auto rifle for Griff and handcannon for Elena.

Almost immediately they felt insignificant. On their side of the river was a massive tower featuring a huge clock at the top, half-crumbled over the decades, the huge clock hands rusted to a dirty red. The tower was attached to a long and grandly-decorated building that stretched south along the river side, which according to the twittering of Kal, was once the seat of this country's government, right up to the Collapse. They could also see where something huge had crashed down into the centre of said building, leaving a blackened crater.

On the opposite side of the river but further down from their current position, was a huge, wheel-shaped structure on the edge of the water, over a hundred feet tall. It had been white once, but rust and other decay had robbed it of most of its original paint, and it was decorated with the odd bulbous pod lined with windows. Several wrecked pods littered the ground surrounding the wheel's base, and the wheel itself was badly listing to one side, in danger of collapsing entirely.

"The London Eye," Garl announced, hovering at Griff's shoulder. "People would go into those pods, and then be lifted up, high enough to see the whole city. A tourist attraction."

"That's interesting and all," Griff answered, "but what about Hyde Park?"

"To our west," Kal answered, and immediately flashed up an objective marker onto their motion trackers, a long way off to the rough north west.

"Bit of a hike," Elena observed, "and no Sparrow link, obviously."

"Would you want to use a Sparrow in this place?" Logan replied, indicating along the road in front of them. The others turned to look.

The roads were practically rammed from side to side and front to back with dozens, perhaps even hundreds of rusted wrecks of cars and other vehicles, including several huge buses that comprised two separate levels. The tyres were rotted away or entirely flat and the bodywork of each vehicle was just a carpet of rust. And then there were the skeletons. There were thousands of them, some sprawled in the vehicles but many more just littered across every inch of the road and the pavements, or huddled into open doorways to shield themselves from whatever doom had been visited upon them. Logan looked around, taking in the skulls he could make out. Hundreds and hundreds of skulls, on this street alone, watching the interlopers with empty, accusing sockets.

"Just like on the Moon," Elena said quietly, though on the Moon the bones were of fellow Guardians. These belonged to everyday people, killed en mass as they sought to flee the evil unleashed in the wake of the Collapse. Even worse than when Logan had first been bought back by Kal, among a junkyard of rusted cars and bleached bone.

"Can't do anything for them," Logan sighed, pulling back the bolt of his rifle, making a noticeable sound which echoed down the street for several seconds. He was checking the windows and doorways for signs of any movement, and discerned none.

"Where's the welcoming committee?" Griff asked, clearly thinking the same as Logan. "I thought this city was meant to be crawling with Fallen?"

"Maybe they're further in," Elena suggested with a shrug of her finely-tailored shoulders. "Over time they ended up having to pull further and further back to consolidate their positions." She didn't sound convinced.

"Whatever, let's just move," Logan said in reply. "With any luck they'll stick their heads out and we can shoot a few off." He started to walk off straight ahead, threading through the rusted cars and stepping carefully around the scattered bones of London's long-dead residents. Elena and Griff followed him after a brief pause, not voicing their concerns any further.

Initially, they saw little save for row upon row of rusted cars and countless scattered bones, but after half an hour they were walking alongside a large open space to their right that could have once been a park, but was as grey and lifeless as everywhere else in the city, a dried-out basin that could have once been a lake dominating the centre stripe of the park.

"St James' Park," Kal responded, reappearing in a burst of light as if reading Elena's unspoken questions. "London has several such parks in it, presumably for recreation and other activities…but Hyde Park is the largest of these alone."

"Just curious," the Warlock asked, tightening the grip on her handcannon.

A short while later, they rounded the south west corner of the park and came onto a wide curve in the road which circled an impressive stone monument topped with a golden sculpture. Part of the monument pictured a distinguished-looking woman sitting on a throne. Elena walked right up to it and held out her hand, and then Scarlett was flitting around it, scanning away.

"Hmm…seems to be a dedication to a Queen…Victoria? Must have been one of this country's rulers a long, long time ago," Scarlett announced, scanning the golden part of the sculpture. Close by, Logan hopped up onto the roof of a nearby van, and pulled out his sniper rifle, using its scope as he played it through a slow three-sixty turn, checking for potential threats.

"So what's this?" Griff asked, turning to watch the huge stone building opposite the memorial, behind a set of heavy iron-barred gates. It was wide, the centre of its front face dominated by a wide balcony with thick pillars, and just inside of the entrance was a pair of guard huts. One side showed more fire damage from the same kind of impact that had flattened or severely damaged many other buildings they had seen earlier on.

"Buckingham Palace," Elena replied, without any input from her Ghost. "This was the home of the Royal Family for so long, and then when the Collapse came they were evacuated out to somewhere far north. Records for what ultimately happened to them are limited."

Logan ignored all of this as he panned his sniper scope to the north east, in the general direction of their destination. He saw little save for centuries-old devastation and decay, until he played across a strange, spherical construct that was undoubtedly Fallen in construction. He spied the tattered banners flying from the top, sky blue edged with red, and featuring a stylized image of a falcon diving to attack, talons outstretched.

"I'm seeing Fallen architecture out here," he called out. Griff's response was to turn and start to check the way they had just come in case of an ambush, and then to summon Garl out and open a comm link to the Vanguard.

"This is Onyx," he said. "We're on site and have confirmed evidence of Fallen presence, but no physical sign of any ground forces as of yet, and we're hoping it stays that way. This whole city is ruined."

"Yeah, London used to be such a nice place," Cayde replied smoothly, "until the Collapse came and then ten million people quickly became ten million corpses. And then the House of Falcons landed a Ketch on the south bank of the Thames and turned the rest of the city into their own personal scrapyard. There was plenty for them to strip clean."

"Not so much now," Ikora Ray chimed in on the same channel, "they must have picked it all clean by now, especially everything from Watson Cybernetics in particular. They had been working on a number of special projects including advanced cryogenics and AI development. So much valuable tech, lost like that."

"That is all in the past though," Zavala reckoned, "and there are more important things to worry about now. Onyx, proceed onwards, but keep your senses sharp. Contact us as soon as you find the source of that signal."

"Will do," Griff said, and the link was quickly cut, leaving Garl to flutter this way and that, its tiny beam scanning as it went.

"Come on, we should keep moving," announced Logan, dropping down from the wrecked car and walking off to the north east. "We've been out in the open for far too long anyway."

"Feeling paranoid?" asked Elena as she turned away from the palace gates.

"Just a little," Logan replied, dropping down from his perch and already walking on. "I've underestimated the Fallen too many times in the last, and I'm not about to underestimate them again. Come on."

For a while they moved on in relative silence, following what remained of the road signs towards Hyde Park, the distance markers on their motion trackers gradually clicking down as they went. Occasionally, one of them would stop to examine something of note, their Ghost whirring and clicking around as it scanned for relevant data to send back to the Tower.

"Hold on, got some Fallen caches here," Griff called at one point as he crouched by a large hole in the tarmacked road, a few hundred yards past from Buckingham Palace. The others came in close as Garl disappeared inside and began to click his light beam around, illuminating a series of rounded machines that could only be identified as Fallen tech. But all of them looked inert and cold.

"Hmmm," Garl announced as it turned back into Light and vanished, "these are definitely Fallen sensor banks, and I can identify several coded fragments identifying them as belonging to the House of Falcons, but these haven't been lit up two years at least."

"Peculiar," Elena said aloud, glancing around again. "There are definite signs of their being Fallen here at some point, but there's no sign of them right now. So where the hell did they go?"

"Sure we'll be finding out one way or another," Logan replied, sighing a little as he stood and scanned the horizon again. As ever, his keen instincts picked up nothing. No inevitable ambushes, no lingering Vandals with their stealth tech and drawn shock blades, no Shanks at low power waiting for some clumsy Guardian to set them off – nothing. Far as he was concerned, Old London was a dead city, but he didn't vocalise that to the others.

After a short while they reached what must have been the nearest corner of Hyde Park, but their path was blocked by a massive wall, some fifty feet high. It was steel grey, but made of something altogether more alien and much more durable. More Fallen tech was scattered at the base of the wall, forming some form of checkpoint, now long abandoned. Logan stood and looked both ways along the street they stood on, checking for an alternative route.

"Through here," said Elena, as if reading his mind, standing at a wide open entrance to an old building. The sign above the door read _Hyde Park Corner,_ along with symbol depicting a red roundel shape, bisected horizontally across the middle with the word _UNDERGROUND_ against a blue background.

"Underground?" asked Griff dubiously.

"An underground transit system," Scarlett announced as the tiny machine appeared out of nowhere, "much like the one on Mars, just on a much smaller scale. Back in the Golden Age and before, this system served the entire city. I got Elena out of the city through the tunnels, back when I first bought her back to life."

"Good to know," Logan nodded and then started to walk in through the open doors. "Come on, we've been out in the open long enough."

A couple minutes later, Logan didn't feel any safer down underground than he did up on the streets, in the open. For one, the skeletons were even thicker inside. There had to be the remains of thousands of individual bodies littering the tiled floors of the entrance ways, the steep descents into the station itself, and on the platform itself. The lights were off, so the three had to navigate by way of their Ghost's individual light beams, which made things a little difficult. Their boots waded through ankle-deep piles of bleached bones, scattering ribs and tiny finger bones like dice, and often crushing skulls with clumsy missteps. Griff must have flattened at least a dozen himself on their descent, each one being met with a dirty look from the others and a whispered apology.

 _Good job Griff,_ though Logan. _Alert every damn Fallen down here._ But nothing reacted to their advance.

Eventually they made it to the platform itself, littered with a thick carpet of bleached bones. Logan kicked a good amount away as he took a closer look at the ruined train parked at the station – all that remained was a badly rusted shell, the side walls slowly caving in. Griff was examining a large map stuck to the wall opposite the train. He wiped away a thick layer of dust and grime, exposing a largely white space, decorated with lines of various colours tracing this way and that, all marked with numerous names. It was a map of the underground, they realised after a few moments.

Garl was released to scan the map, his little beam illuminating the numerous names. "Elephant & Castle, Piccadilly Circus…what kind of names are these?"

"The human kind," retorted Elena from the opposite side of the platform. "And I wasn't thinking much about how silly the names sounded when I was running for my life two years ago."

A short distance away, Logan was poking through the ruined train, but there wasn't much to see save for more bleached and worn bones, scattered on the floors and seats. There were traces of seating and bright advertising above said seats, but it was impossible to discern any of what it was.

"Come on, we've wasted enough time," he announced with a glance over his shoulder as he walked out of the train and dropped onto the tracks. "Let's get a move on before the Fallen do crawl out of wherever the hell they're hiding." Without another word or protest, Elena and Griff dropped down onto the tracks and followed after him, the light beams of their Ghosts illuminating the rounded tunnel they followed. Warning signs illuminated as they bobbed along.

"There must be miles of these tunnels," Griff commented after a while.

"Two hundred and fifty, to be exact," chimed Garl, his voice projecting out from the face grill of his master's helmet. "Also, the trains which ran on these lines could reach up to 60 mph in top speed, although the average speed of most tube trains was only around 20.5"-

"No-one likes a know-it-all, Garl," Griff announced loudly, which shut up the Ghost and prompted a loud snigger from Elena.

"Come on children," said Logan, "let's all play nice until we get to the part where we shoot aliens in the face and collect our loot, shall we? Now Elena, any idea where we can come out closer to the park?"

"Well if my memory serves me correctly, if we keep going forward we'll come to a station called Marble Arch Corner, which takes us out at the park's North East corner," the Warlock answered, one arm extended as she consulted some data her Ghost had stored in its memory banks. "And the marker is nearer that corner anyway."

"Good job," Logan replied, and began to pick up the pace. "Come on, let's get a move on."

* * *

Ten minutes later they had reached the station, and they ascended up another set of dormant escalators littered with bones, emerging onto the street close to what was once a magnificent piece of architecture in white marble, except now it was half-collapsed. Something powerful had smashed into its top side, leaving its central arch collapsed, and also badly scorching the area around the collapse. Logan stood and stared at it for a while, marvelling at the design above the archways while Elena and Griff stood in a small huddle, looking in the direction of Hyde Park.

"OK, I definitely don't like this," the Titan announced.

"Which part?" Elena asked. "The part where a city that's been held by the Fallen for decades is just completely dead, or the part where this signal we're tracking has no encryption in it whatsoever?"

"…excuse me?" asked Griff, turning to look at her with the smooth visage of his plasteel helmet.

"This signal has no encryption to it," Elena replied levelly. "You would think that if the Cabal were here on Earth, so close to us, that they would want to _remain_ undetected for the duration of their stay? And if that was the case, why would they be broadcasting a signal that we could so easily stumble across? I don't like this at all, Griff."

"Now that you mention it," Griff said, tightening the hold on his rifle, "this suddenly seems like a bad idea. Standing out here, in the open. Feels like we have targets painted onto our backs."

"Well in that case we should make this very quick," Logan added as he walked up. "The beacon's just over there if the tracker signal is anything to go by."

"You realise this could just be a massive trap set by the Fallen to draw us in and strip us to the bone?" Elena said.

"Of course," the Hunter shrugged, as though it was an obvious answer. "A Cabal signal, on a planet that we know they haven't reached, on a band we could easily pick up? Of course it's probably a trap. But it's been too long since a Guardian came to this city. I've always been curious about what state it was in, weren't you?"

"I think you and I have _very_ different concepts of curiosity, Logan," Elena replied.

* * *

There must have been a fence around Hyde Park at some point, but it had been torn down a long time ago, leaving just a shallow trench that they easily stepped over. Inside, the park's grass had been dug up long ago, leaving scattered patches of wiry leaves of grass and weeds to dig their way up through packed soil. The rest of the space was littered with more Fallen architecture, indicating that this had once been one of their main bases. But like the outpost they had seen earlier, it had been abandoned at some point.

Griff called out when he came across a refuelling station for some Pikes, three of the heavy machines resting on the soil itself, their engines long dormant. The Titan forced up one of the engine panels, and saw the machinery inside had been picked clean at some point. "Looks like they got desperate enough to scavenge their own stuff," he said.

The others were looking elsewhere, and at one point Logan vaulted himself up to the top of a watchtower and pulled out his sniper rifle so scout ahead. He could see no signs of life as he played the clicking viewfinder back and forth through a wide arc, seeing nothing save for empty structures and tattered flags bearing the crest of the House of Falcons.

"The Fallen haven't been here for years," he announced as he grabbed hold of the ladder on the side of the tower and slid down to the ground in one fluid motion. "If they were waiting in ambush for us, then they've been waiting a very long time."

"I doubt patience is a virtue the Fallen hold," Elena retorted.

"What, they have virtues?" Griff asked, smirking beneath his helm.

"Noise discipline," hissed Logan as he crouched down in cover beside a particularly large sensor pod, and the other two quickly followed his example. "The Fallen might not be here anymore but something else just might."

"What? The Cabal?" asked Griff. "I haven't seen one of those for the last couple hours, and you can't exactly hide a Cabal in plain sight. You know they don't believe in that crap."

"Come on children, let's keep moving," sighed Logan, moving on as Kal flittered back and forth, scanning every kind of Fallen tech he could find, but most of the data banks were powered down and starting to become covered in moss and lichen. The little machine let out a sigh and moved on.

"Signal is dead ahead," Elena announced, checking her motion tracker.

"Time to see what all the fuss is about," Griff said, pulling back the bolt on his rifle and then running off to the right, threading in between two separate buildings so he could come at the objective from another direction from the others.

They could see it just ahead. There was a landing field for the Fallen's Skiffs, and a couple of the large vessels were docked, but they were as rusted and cold as the Pikes they had seen earlier. In the shadows of the leftmost one, there was a comms beacon set up, of the type used by the Fallen. It had a green light on top which was blinking on and off at a regular interval, and a long antenna array, jury-rigged from thin steel wire the Fallen had rigged from their scavenging efforts.

"It's just there?" whispered Elena to Logan, "out in the open? Could this be anymore of a trap?"

"No, it couldn't," Logan whispered back, glancing around until he saw the faint silhouette of Griff crouching fifty yards away. The Titan raised his arm in a subtle greeting, and then aimed down the sights of his rifle. "…but we have our mission. I'll go and check it out. Stay here Elena, keep an eye out."

"Sure."

Then Logan crouched down and lowered his head. A few seconds later, there was a very subtle shimmering of light, and then he just vanished into thin air. Except, there was the very slight shimmering in the air, to show his cloaked outline, and then Logan was rushing towards the beacon, leaving small traces of dust from his footsteps. A few tense seconds later, the Hunter reappeared crouched beside the beacon, knife in hand. With a bit of work, he levered his knife underneath the corner of the front body panel and popped it off, leaving the inner workings and a small black screen exposed. It was reeling off long lines of code in large white characters that Logan didn't recognise.

"Okay Kal," he whispered and extended his arm, bringing his Ghost into reality, "do your magic."

"With pleasure," the machine chimed, and then its little white beam was extended, scanning the beacon from side to side. On the dingy screen, the lines of code scrolled past at a faster rate. "Well, this is definitely a Cabal message: their codes are in here, as well as another message. One repeating over and over again."

"Distress call?" asked Logan, glancing over his shoulder.

"Possibly," Kal answered, "although you know for all of my sparkling wit, priceless advice and incredible code-breaking…I am not an alien linguist. The Cryptarch's back at the tower would know more."

"Well then extract it and let's get a move on"- Logan started to say, but then the screen in front of him shut up abruptly, the pale glow gone. The light on top flickered one more time and then went off.

"Uhhh…that was unexpected," Kal said.

"What, what is it?" asked Logan.

"The second I extracted a copy of that message, the whole system just shut down. Must have been a fail-safe," the Ghost explained as it looked round at its master, its eye-plates forming into a wide, surprised expression. "And not only that, it sent out a short-wave burst transmission to a nearby position."

"How close by?"

"…less than a hundred yards."

 _Oh boy._

" _Logan!"_ Elena was screaming, just as he heard the high-pitched whistling, and he glanced up and past the beacon to see the projectiles coming in fast, trailing black smoke, and he was up and sprinting back towards Elena, and then at the last moment possible he jumped and hurled himself head-first as the missiles slammed into the beacon, tearing it apart in a conflagration of flame and shrapnel.

Logan hit the ground with his right shoulder hard, rolling over and tucking himself into a crouch, coming up with his rifle raised, the stock clamped tight against his shoulder. "You see where it came from?!" he bellowed out, the question directed at Griff and Elena together.

"North West!" cried Griff, already sighting his rifle in. "That was…that was a missile barrage from a Colossus!"

"It sure was," muttered Logan, as he heard the next inevitable sound that told him what they were facing: the whining of jump packs.

Sure enough, he saw six massive figures come cresting the top of the nearest Skiff, tearing through the black smoke from the ruined beacon, leaving swirls of embers and choking smoke in their wake. Each one was massive, at least eight hundred pounds of sheer muscle and armour that shielded a member of the most war-like and destructive race that the Guardians of the City had ever faced. Bellowing great cries, each one slammed into the ground with enough force to leave a shallow crater and then broke into long strides, firing off short, sharp bursts from their slug rifles.

From behind Logan, Elena opened her mouth and bellowed a single word.

" _Cabal!"_

 **A/N: So, here is the latest chapter, a little later than I would have liked to have put it up. But anyways, when writing this I was attempting to keep to the real-life layout of London, which I have visited a few times in the past so I was going off of Google Maps, so hopefully it is somewhat accurate. Anyways, as always R &R as usual people, and with any luck I can update a little faster next time.**


	4. Reinforced

**Chapter 4: Reinforced  
**

Griff was already firing with his auto rifle as the Legionnaires were advancing, aiming for the three in the rear. Two turned to face him as he managed to drop one with sustained fire to its chest, but the second absorbed most of the bullets with its armour, firing back one-handed. Its red-hot slugs punched straight through the wall beside Griff and kept on going, through two more walls and beyond.

For his part, Logan hurled himself sideways as Elena stood her ground and cracked off two shots from her handcannon, blowing apart the lead Legionnaire's skull in a blossom of purple blood and twisted metal fragments, and then eight hundred pounds of dead weight slammed into the packed soil. Behind it, two more dropped to one knee and fired off a fusillade of heavy slug fire, and the Warlock fled with a twirl of her robes, her shield flickering as they absorbed the shots.

"Drop 'em!" Logan was shouting, as if the others needed instruction – he could hear them firing back frantically as he aimed from his lying-down position and popped the head of the nearest Legionnaire, and then crippled another by taking out both its knees. It bellowed mournfully as it crashed down, and then Elena tossed a grenade that bounced once and went off at chest height, finishing off the crippled Legionnaire and forcing another back thanks to the shockwave of the blast. The remaining three actually began to turn away, one of them firing off its jump pack and landing atop one of one of the smaller buildings, firing down from its elevated position.

 _You're mine,_ thought Logan, activating his cloak and making a run for the corner of a nearby storage barn, ignoring the mayhem to his right at the others kept on fighting. Griff stood out in the open and rattled out the last of his current magazine to drop one of the remaining Legionnaires on the ground. The beast twisted and turned away as a line of bullet impacts stitched across its stomach to its left shoulder, and then it turned away and crashed over onto its face.

Logan's cloak deactivated as he reached the corner of the building the Legionnaire was camped upon, and he leapt high, activating his double jump and kicking off of the wall he touched, scrambling like a cat up the vertical surface. He caught the gutter at the edge of the roof and hauled himself up just as he heard Griff's voice in his ears.

"There's more coming in! A Colossus, and a few more Legionnaires and Phalanxes!"

"Hold them off Griff, I'm a little busy!" Logan yelled back, finding himself on level ground and glancing around to find his target. He could see the slope of a huge shoulder on the next roof over, in the shadow of a docked Skiff, and the flash of a slug rifle firing. He crept up to the edge of the roof, as close as he dared, and then he leapt up, raising the rifle at the same time.

The Legionnaire sensed his movement and swung about to face him, but he had the drop on it and as such there would only be one outcome. His rifle roared, and then the Legionnaire was flung backwards, its skull deteriorating in a spray of purple mist. Its rifle fired once, and Logan _felt_ the sting of the projectile whip past his left ear, and he reflexively jerked his head sideways.

"Close one," he whispered, and then moved to look over the main field where the beacon had once stood.

He saw another half dozen Cabal down below, advancing in a classic shield wall formation – three Phalanxes at the front, trudging on with their rifles rested on the edges of their shields, while another three behind were standard Legionnaires, marching behind their fellows. And then right at the back there was a massive Colossus, stomping forwards to find a vantage point to fire its heavy weapon from.

Beneath Logan, Elena was pressed deep behind the wreck of a Fallen Pike, while Griff was running sideways across the field, looking to get a better angle to fire back, but the shields of the Phalanx line was as impenetrable as expected. Sparks flew as bullets bounced right off, and then the Titan was diving headlong as slug tracers drew close.

"I'm right above you guys," Logan whispered into his comms, settling in at the edge of the roof and aiming the extended barrel of his rifle towards the enemy line. "I'll open up a gap for you guys to tear apart. Then the Colossus is mine."

"Well hurry it up then!" Elena shouted, considerably stressed. "I don't know what ammo they're using but it punches through most things like wet paper!"

Griff's shield flickered and shone as the tracer of slug rounds impacted against it. It had only taken a few hits and already it was straining just to remain active. Griff had fought plenty of Cabal in the past, but these ones were different to the ones on Mars. Just as well-equipped and relentless, but these ones seemed even more inclined towards squad-based tactics. The Phalanxes were throwing up an impenetrable barrier to shield the others as they drew closer.

"Shit!" he cursed, firing off another rifle clip, and then diving away as it clicked on empty, a hail of slug rounds chasing him. He dove down behind an empty storage crate and slapped a fresh magazine into his rifle, just as he heard the loud _p-kow_ sound from above, and then one of the Phalanx's was flying back, its head gone. But that left a hole in the defences, and a second later there was the high-pitched whine of a fusion rifle charging, and a red-holt bolt completely disintegrated the chest cavity of an exposed Legionnaire.

Griff tossed a grenade overhand and it bounced off of the soil once and then went off at chest height, shredding the remaining two Phalanxes and leaving the other Legionnaires rapidly scrambling away, firing their rifles as they went. Elena's fusion rifle fired twice more and the Legionnaires dropped with their chests melted through. And then the Colossus behind them opened fire, a stream of slug fire coming towards them, slicing apart Elena's relatively flimsy cover, prompting Griff to launch himself towards her, getting in between her and the Colossus and letting his shield absorb the fire, but it wouldn't withstand for much longer-

-then the Colossus was hit in the face plate and it stumbled, the weapon fire dragged away from Elena and Griff and tearing up through the side of the nearest Skiff instead. It must have touched off one of its fuel tanks as an explosion suddenly tore through its flank, raining shards of rusted steel and flaming shrapnel down across the packed soil. The two Guardians shielded their faces from the shock wave and sudden thermal rush, as the Colossus turned its aim up and past them…

And a second shot tore off its head. The massive body turned slightly, and then crashed over onto its back, like a mighty tree which had just been felled.

As the Skiff continued to burn, a cloaked figure dropped over the edge of a nearby building, slid down the side gutter and then dropped the last twenty feet to the ground, landing in a roll. Logan came up from a crouch, sniper rifle held low in one hand, and crossed over towards them with long strides. "You okay?" he asked.

"Still in one piece," Griff said with a nod, but Elena was more interested in something else.

"Guys, come take a look," she called out, standing beside one of the more 'intact' corpses. "This isn't a legion we've seen before."

"You sure?" asked Griff, but the Warlock's answer was just to step to the side and indicate towards the Legionnaire itself.

When they looked, they saw she was right. The colours and the shoulder badge didn't match any of the Cabal legions encountered on Mars, and they had fought enough of them to be certain. The bodysuit was a light blue, and the armour was largely gunmetal silver, but trimmed with onyx black around the shoulders and the breastplate. And the shoulder crest itself represented the outline of a sphere, breaking apart into several distinct pieces, like a rock being shattered.

"You're right El," Logan said, looking to the North, watching for any new threats. "This is a new legion. Get your Ghosts out and scan as much as you can, send it on to the Vanguard. They'll want to know about this."

While Griff wrestled with the huge body (a considerable undertaking even for a Titan of his considerable size), Elena released Scarlett and the tiny red Ghost set about getting a clear scan of the shoulder badge, before moving on to another body, scanning its weapon and other equipment. For his part, Logan walked off to a discreet place and opened up his comms link to the Vanguard.

"It's bad news I'm afraid," he said levelly. "There's no Fallen here – plenty of their gear's been left behind but they haven't walked these streets in a few years at least. But there are Cabal here: the beacon was a trap to lure us in, and we were ambushed. There weren't many of them but they were very disciplined, and they're not from a legion we've met."

"Uh, I'm sorry," said Cayde-6, "but I think I'm hearing things. I think you told us that you were fighting a Cabal legion that we haven't encountered before."

"I did," Logan sighed.

"Oh. Well then…"

"We're getting your data from Elena," Ikora said, dropping into the conversation. "…and you're right, Logan. I don't recognise any of this heraldry at all."

"Fireteam Onyx, you need to come home immediately," Zavala said suddenly, his calm voice carrying a hint of anxiety. "There's likely to be more of those Cabal, and if they lured us in"-

The next part of Zavala's statement was suddenly drowned out by a burst of static interference, and Logan's brow furrowed beneath his helm. "Zavala? Repeat your last, we're getting some interference here."

"-gan…being bloc…get out…repeat…of there…ow!"

And then the line just went dead, and Logan felt a palpable chill run up his spine. The Cabal hadn't just lured Onyx in, they had completely cut off all communications to the Tower and the Vanguard, and would now likely be moving in mass reinforcements to seal the deal, so to speak. Logan formed Kal out of thin air and spoke to his Ghost hurriedly.

"Kal, transmat us out of here, now!"

"Way ahead of you Logan," the Ghost replied, its eye plates forming into an eager expression, which lasted about a second. "…oh no," it said softly.

"What, what is it?"

"Something or someone is blocking our transmat signal as well as our communications," Kal replied as though it was a perfectly natural response to such a situation. "As long as it's active, we're stuck here."

"What?" asked Elena, walking up to join the impromptu huddle.

"I'm getting the same block," Garl announced as he flitted in from another direction, his eye plates formed into a worried expression. "Like Kal said, we can't go anywhere until that signal is taken out of commission."

 _This just keeps getting better and better,_ Logan thought grimly, just as they all heard the low drone of ship engines. He was sure that they were Harvesters, coming in to drop off more Legionnaires and perhaps worse, to sweep for the Fireteam.

"Kal, can you get a fix on where that signal is coming from?" asked Logan, switching out his sniper for his scout rifle, and taking a couple of cautious steps backwards. He heard Elena rattle out the spent shells from her cannon and lower a fresh speed loader, and saw Griff's hands clench up in anticipation of a big fight.

"Of course," the Ghost announced, "it's to the south east roughly, less than a kilometre, outside of a large building"-

"Okay, then let's go and cut if off," Logan announced. And then he was taking off at a run to the south east, away from the incoming Harvesters. Griff and Elena sprinted after him.

* * *

Less than a minute later, four Harvester craft – painted grey, blue and black – swung in low over the sight of the battle and disgorged their living cargo. Six Legionnaires dropped out of three of the craft, while the fourth dropped off a pair of Centurions, identifiable by the huge crests upon their helmets, stiff bristles painted bright red. They barked out guttural commands and stomped to and fro, pointing this way and that.

The last passenger aboard the final craft was a Cabal even larger than the Centurions, closer to the size of a Colossus, bedecked in the same heavy armour and featuring the same crest as the Centurions. It was a Primus, a high rank within the Cabal military. It turned a slow three-sixty degrees as it took in the bodies of its slain comrades and the other destruction, not saying a word.

Then it raised a hand to the side of its helmet and opened a comms link, barking some harsh orders. A trio of Harvesters flew overhead, spreading out to search the city blocks to the south of their position, where the Guardians had been sighted fleeing to. And then it looked to the other Legionnaires surrounding it and bellowed out a raging warcry, which they reciprocated in kind, and then they ignited their jump packs and were rushing off to join the hunt.

The snare had been sprung, and now the prey would be tracked and slain, their scalps taken, for the glory of the Legate.

* * *

Fireteam Onyx reached the southern edge of Hyde Park by the time the Cabal caught up to them. They had hurdled over another non-existent fence to find themselves just outside of a large, domed building showing some serious fire damage, when slug fire began to whip over their heads. Griff spun on his heel and stood out in the open, firing off an entire clip from his rifle. Two Legionnaires were spun off of their feet and a third darted sideways with a burst from its jump pack, but Logan had already sighted in and shot its face off with his scout rifle, and then dropped three more with patient headshots as they rushed in.

"Move!" he yelled, as Elena scrambled in between some more rusted cars, and then gasped as her boot crunched through a skull and she went over headlong, nearly falling flat on her face. Logan was already crouching down and helping her up, but he glanced up and saw something else, and then he dragged her back down as two slug rounds went right over their heads and punched through the nearby brick wall.

"Flanking attack!" cried Griff, already firing as three more Legionnaires stomped their way through the traffic, shoving aside car wrecks with ease. One of them crumpled to the floor, then Logan and Elena were joining in, and soon enough two more bodies littered the ground and Onyx were moving again. They sprinted south, down a wide lane flanked on both sides by large homes, and considerably less cluttered than the main roads had been.

They heard the rush of engines, and a Harvester passed overhead, taking up a stationary position about a hundred yards ahead. Its missile turret swung to target them and when it fired, they scattered in both directions, Logan and Elena going left and Griff going right. The missile erupted in the centre of the road, spraying shards of tarmac in all directions, and its side doors opened.

"Come on, come on," muttered Griff as he nestled deep into the doorway he was sheltered in. A second missile destroyed a parked car only a few feet away, showering him in shrapnel, one shard which pierced his shield and embedded itself into his armoured left shoulder. He winced and tugged it out with his free arm, while Logan took aim with his sniper rifle.

One slight adjustment and then Logan promptly shot the turret off with a single bullet. As the wreckage dropped to the ground, he then targeted the Phalanxes preparing to drop from the Harvester, and killed one outright with a headshot, then took out a second with a mid-air shot before it even reached the ground. Instead it just thudded head-first to the ground, leaving a small crater, and then its fellows touched down and began to advance.

"I've got them!" Elena called out, breaking out of her cover and running full tilt at the Phalanx line, leaping up high and pulling her right arm back. Then her entire body was glowing with Void energy, and she shot her arm forwards, dropping a Nova Bomb that impacted the ground at the feet of the Phalanxes and they were atomised in a broiling sphere of Void energy that shattered the ground and sent wrecked cars tumbling away like matchsticks. Then she landed gracefully and kept on running as the Harvester turned and moved off.

But two more were coming in from behind them, and there was at least another one was coming from in front of them.

"We're getting boxed in!" yelled Griff, realising the tactic.

"I know!" yelled Logan back, as they kept on running. The crossroads ahead were still a few hundred yards away, and they wouldn't reach it in time. Instead they were going to be cut off and slaughtered in an instant, unless he began to think laterally.

"Logan!" cried Elena.

" _I know!"_

He saw a large truck, parked up on the left side of the road, some kind of tanker. Probably a fuel tanker. He hoped it was, even as an idea formed into his mind and he pulled an incendiary grenade out of his belt.

"Just trust me guys," he shouted back to them, "I've got a plan!"

"Hope it's a good one!" shouted Griff back, looking over his shoulder as a fresh squad of Legionnaires were being dropped into action, quickly followed by a Colossus.

 _I hope so too,_ thought Logan grimly.

When they were fifty yards out he slowed down and tossed the grenade overhand, as fast and hard as he could manage. They all watched as the slightly glowing sphere spun through the air, almost as though in slow motion, and then it bounced once off of the tarmac, spinning fast as it popped up high and clanged against the rear side of the tanker, just before going off.

It _was_ a fuel tanker, as it immediately went off in a massive burst of flame and light and scything shrapnel, and the three Guardians had to look away to avoid being blinded, they stumbled a little too, their shields flashing in the face of the sudden pressure shockwave that knocked a few nearby Phalanxes off of their feet.

When the light had settled, they looked back and saw that the tanker was completely gone, flaming debris littered from side of the street to the other. More importantly, the site where the tanker had once stood now had a twelve-foot wide hole torn through the grit and tarmac, exposing a blackened hole down into whatever lay below.

"Down there?" asked Elena dubiously. She glanced up as the Phalanxes dragged themselves back to their feet, growling deep in their throats.

"Yes, down there!" shouted Logan, and he ran for the hole, followed by the others. He stood on the lip, firing off a clip from his scout rifle at the encroaching Cabal as Griff and Elena dropped in from behind him. He saw one Phalanx knocked down and two more staggered as the heavy rounds smacked into their armoured bodies, and then he turned and dropped down into the darkness. The Cabal bellowed furiously as their quarry vanished from sight.

"We shouldn't stay here," Elena whispered as the three Guardians waded their way forwards, through thigh-high, stagnant water that was rife with algae, the curved walls on either side of them crusted with mildew and other unidentifiable plant life. Or at least, they hoped it was plant life, but the smell suggested otherwise.

"Way ahead of you," said Logan, calling out Kal. "Get us a route out of here, Kal."

"Accessing city schematics," Kal responded, issuing a gentle clicking sound. "Done. This network runs south for a while, where we can find an exit back to street level."

"Excellent," said Griff, "now let's get out of this crap." After a brief moment, he sniffed deeply "Actually, I'm pretty sure it is crap."

* * *

A handful of Legionnaires clustered around the smoking hole in the street, even as their Primus stomped up, slug rifle hanging from his right hand. It bleated out a harsh demand in its bellowing language, and the Legionnaires backed away immediately, some of them hurrying to salute with a bold fist-to-chest gesture. Then the Primus raised its rifle and shot one of them in the face, slamming it back off its feet. The others visibly flinched away and began to bleat, begging for mercy.

The Primus ignored them entirely as it looked back and gestured to some more Legionnaires who were coming up. Between them they were escorting four small, shackled figures, wearing light blue armour and with crude hoods pulled up over their heads. Their hands were bonded in front of them with heavy steel rings. They lead the figures up towards the rim of the hole, and then with a nod from the Primus, they undid the shackles, unhooded the figures and took a long step backwards.

The Primus jabbed a huge finger the size and shape of a club at the hole, and the figures glanced up slowly. Then issuing a low hiss, they approached the hole and dropped in gracefully, single file. The other Legionnaires seemed to visibly relaxed the second they were out of view.

* * *

Filthy water sloshed around their legs as they waded on, following the tiny spark of Kal's light beam as he lead them through a series of tight turns and long passageways. Every now and then Elena would gasp in disgust before wiping something off of her robes that didn't bear thinking about.

"How much further?" hissed Griff impatiently, his armour similarly stained.

"Not far. Couple hundred yards," Kal replied. "Don't worry about the Cabal, there's no way a Legionary or Phalanx would be able to squeeze through these tunnels anyway." Griff didn't reply to that as he focused on watching their six instead, even if his own Ghost's light beam only illuminated a basic ten feet of filthy wall on either side of him.

"Here we are," Kal announced, as the tunnel they were traversing suddenly opened up into a wide room with a steel grated floor set just above the sloshing water. They hauled themselves up onto level ground and began to glance around to find an exit. Logan spied a steel hatchway built into a far corner of the ceiling, above a catwalk which encircled the room's ceiling. In the centre was a thick pair of sewer pipes surrounded by a steel cage and other machinery, all of it rusted a deep red.

"Alright, time for some fresh air," Logan announced, double-jumping up to the catwalk, hauling himself up and heading for the hatch, while Elena and Griff just headed for the stairs in the nearby corner, shaking their heads.

"You know we can't jump as high as you can Logan," the Warlock called out. But Griff was too focused on where they had just come from. "Griff, what is it?" asked Elena, as above Logan got a hold of the hatch's handles and tried to turn it, but it was rusted shut. The rim of the hatch was deep red, encrusted with iron oxide, and even putting his entire strength into it, he couldn't even budge it a quarter inch. He was about to call for Griff's assistance when the Titan cut him off.

"There's something following us," Griff whispered, aiming his auto rifle.

"Come on Griff," groaned Kal, doing his best impersonation of an eye-roll. "I told you that Cabal couldn't follow us down here"-

"Yes, but Psions could," hissed Griff in reply. Up above, Logan heard that and immediately began to feel the anxiety creeping up the back of his spine, even though they hadn't seen any Psions accompanying this Cabal legion. This mission had already given them enough surprises, and he wasn't looking forward to another anytime soon. He snatched up his sniper rifle as Elena turned from her position at the front of the stairs to watch.

"Griff…" she said quietly, but the Titan silenced her by holding up one hand, palm open. He pointed towards the tunnel they had just come through.

 _Splash._

They all heard the slight disturbance of water, perhaps from advancing feet. Immediately they all got their weapons up and pointed towards the tunnel.

 _Splash. Splash. Splash._

The rhythm was becoming a lot steadier now as the unseen presence approached. Up above, Logan had the best possible vantage point to watch over the whole room, and he was sure to keep the area around Griff inside of his peripheral vision, lest there was any kind of surprise to come.

"Nothing on the motion tracker," Elena announced.

"I swear there's something out there," Griff responded, not moving an inch. Garl moved forwards a few inches, its light beam illuminating some more of the wall on either side. But there was nothing else to see, save for the filthy water which was lapping slowly.

And then Logan's eyes – as sharp as any Hunter's – noticed the one thing his comrades hadn't. There was something on the ceiling, just above Griff's head, a very slight, shimmering of the light, as if there was something there, but not quite at the same time. It reminded him of his own cloaking tech as part of his Bladedancer profession, or the stealth tech of Fallen Vandals-

His scout rifle roared with a resounding crack, impossibly loud within the relatively cramped space, and then there was a flickering of blue light and a strangled shriek as some twisted, crumpled shape dropped from the ceiling, and Griff was just about able to leap out of the way before it crashed down on top of him, while Elena was flinching away, shocked.

"What the hell?!" she blurted out as the shimmering, half-there shape was flailing around in a tangle of broken, twisted limbs, and Griff stepped over, firing a quick burst down into its torso, and then the limbs snapped down against the stone floor and it fell still. Griff still kept his rifle pointed as they began to take in the details of their invisible attacker.

"…a Psion?" asked Garl, as it swooped in low, scanning over the lithe, blue suited form with the distinctive helmet that Psions wore. This one didn't seem to be visibly armed though, though its forearms featured bulky gauntlets forged of the same material as Cabal body armour. "Hmm, that's curious – it seems to have adapted Fallen stealth tech into its suit."

"Stealth tech?" asked Griff. "Okay, that's it. Cabal have never been this sneaky beforehand."

"I'm more worried about whether there are any more of them," Logan observed from his high perch.

At that moment, a second cloaked Psion made its presence known, launching itself head-first out of the sewer tunnel, arms extended out in front of it like a torpedo. It passed right in between Elena and Griff, fast enough to disturb their shields and make them flicker, and then the hunched figure was landing and turning and sliding, coming up from a crouch and lunging for the two reeling, shocked Guardians. It took all of two seconds for all of that to transpire, even as another shimmering shape was skittering across the wall just inches from Elena's face.

Logan cursed and snapped off a couple of hasty shots, both of them sparking off the dank wall and prompting the shape to flash away, while Griff tackled the first shape head-on, driving a clenched fist towards where he guessed its head was. The shape darted away, flowing like water, hacking at Griff with a set of blades attached to its right forearm. They were very long and slender, featuring a pair of needle-like prongs at the business end.

Griff's shield flickered badly, just about holding. Shocked, the Titan roared as he fired off a one-handed burst from his rifle, and Elena swung her handcannon to bear, snapping off two shots that exploded and crashed through the cramped room. The first one missed but the second tore through the Psion's elbow and it shrieked as it was spun around, its cloak flickering as its form was revealed. This one wore a bodysuit much like the first one, though they could see the wraps and bindings that clung tight to its form, with heavy rings of some dense metal clattering freely.

Then Elena fired one last shot and tore its head off, slamming it back against the nearby wall.

Logan vaulted the railings far above and dropped to the floor below, watching for the shimmer of the third shape as it scuttled across the wall. "Stay alert!" he called to the others as he squeezed through a pair of pipes mounted on the wall, catching the hint of damp and mildew as he passed through into the open. He saw the shape scrambling up the wall just ahead and above him, and he raised his rifle to fire-

And then it wasn't in his hands anymore. Something slender had caught the front half of the weapon and casually flicked it right out of his hands, leaving it clattering across the floor several feet away. His eyes watched it for a brief moment, and then he looked back as light glinted off of something long and sharp, and he jerked his head back as he heard the whine of a blade slicing through the air.

There was a shimmering of light in front of him, and then the Psion standing there dropped its cloak, revealing the unsheathed claws on both of its arms. The blades resembled the ones glimpsed just previously – long and slender with pronged tips – and then they were flashing right at Logan's face again, and he ducked low and darted past the lithe alien form, the claws gouging through the brickwork and the pipes, spraying stagnant, stinking water across the floor.

Logan spun and drew his knife, holding it point-down in his right hand. The Psion turned slowly, making an odd clicking noise from its mouthparts. Then it lunged at him, right arm outstretched. Logan flicked the blades aside with a subtle motion of his right hand, but it just reached across with its left arm, blades hissing for his face. Logan jerked his head and shoulders down and to his left, then spun past the Psion, jabbing his elbow into its side as it went. Then he stabbed his blade into the back of its right shoulder and twisted. The creature squealed and tried to flail behind itself with its left arm, but Logan blocked it with a raised forearm, then pulled his knife free and moved round it to the other side, burying his knife into its left armpit, right up to the hilt. Purple blood squirted from the torn flesh and the Psion let out a pained squeal, spasmed once, and then went limp.

Logan dropped the body to the floor and wiped his knife clean on its chest, just as he noted that Griff and Elena had finished off the last one, driving it into a corner and then drilling it with a pair of solid handcannon hits to the chest. Purple blood was splattered across the walls and ceiling, especially when Griff unloaded a quick burst into its chest to make sure it was dead.

"You good?" asked Logan.

"We're good," Griff replied, panting, though the front of his breastplate was scored with a pair of deep gouges. But Logan didn't comment on it, even as he crouched down and picked up his rifle, checking that it was still in working order.

"This is _fascinating_ ," Scarlett announced suddenly, the tiny red dot examining the nearest Psion corpse with its little white beam. "They are Psions as we normally know them, but as well as the stealth tech, their weapons utilise the same power field that powers Fallen shock blades used by their Vandals."

"Great," sighed Logan, "anything else of note?" he asked, but Griff cut him off sharply.

"Can we get a move on before more of these creepy bastards show up?" hissed Griff, glancing back down the sewer tunnel.

"Agreed," Logan added. "Come on El, we can go over all of the data later. Once we get out of here."

"Sure thing," the Warlock answered, storing Scarlett away.

"Griff, we need you to open the exit," Logan then said, thumbing over his shoulder at the old hatch, rusted shut. "It's too rusted shut for me to manage."

"On it," the Titan called out, making his way up and over towards the hatch, taking hold of the wheel and forcing it open through brute force. They all heard the tortured squeal of corroded steel, and flakes of rust drifted to the floor in clouds. Then the hatch wheel locked and Griff forced the hatch open about an inch or so, then stopped. "I can hear Cabal up there."

"Figures," Logan sighed, and then looked over at where Kal was fluttering around. "Kal?"

"The blocking signal is coming from outside of the building directly above our heads. So presumably that hatch will take us right to it. And also right into the middle of all the Cabal set to guard whatever is transmitting said signal," the little machine said.

"Great," Elena sighed, reloading her cannon. "So, how we doing this Logan?"

"Since our only way out of this city is through more Cabal, I say we're doing it the hard way," Logan replied, as he reached behind him and switched out his rifle for his Black Spindle machine gun.

 **A/N: And so we come to the end of another chapter, and now we are getting into the 'action' segment of proceedings. Now I know I haven't gone into specifics with exactly what kind of scout rifle, auto rifle etc. that Fireteam Onyx are using as I haven't actually played Destiny in a while to decide on what their preferred model is (I've read plenty of other Destiny fanfics where the leading characters use some Exotic weapon as their primary, which I would like to avoid if possible), but in the near future I should have narrowed down which weapons they use to some degree.**

 **But for the moment, R &R as usual. All feedback is appreciated.**


	5. Leaving

**Chapter 5: Leaving  
**

The building once known as the Natural History Museum had suffered badly in the time immediately following the Collapse – most of the building's northern wing had collapsed in on itself following a severe impact, and the remainder had been gutted by fire, centuries worth of artefacts inside now lost forever. And most recently, the Cabal had moved in and reinforced the ruins as an outpost.

At least a dozen Legionnaires prowled the grounds outside of the building or took up defence positions in the corners of the grand courtyard, where trees and other shrubbery had been cleared long ago. Their main focus was upon a huge, cylindrical object planted in the middle of the courtyard, powered by thick cables that ran to a nearby generator, a large turbine whirring within the cylinder's top end. Every now and then, a sound like some wasted being shrieking in agony could be heard. The Centurion leading the detachment would glance at the cylinder every now and then, and then raise a hand to the comms device in its helmet, asking something in its guttural language.

The steel manhole cover several yards away opened up about an inch a half, exposing a sliver of helmet visor, which then glanced one way and then the other quickly, and then lowered the cover slowly. None of the Cabal noticed.

But they noticed when the cover was slammed up out of its place seconds later, spinning away end over end like a spinning plate. The nearest Legionnaires spun to face the sudden noise, and almost immediately they were being hosed with rapid fire from Logan's Black Spindle machine gun, the rattle of automatic fire sounding over the Hunter's battle cry as he stepped up out of the sewer, still firing. The three Legionnaires didn't stand a chance, and were put down in seconds.

Behind Logan, Griff and Elena pulled themselves out into the open to meet the other Cabal rushing to join the fight. The latter pelted the Centurion's shield with blasts from her fusion rifle, while Griff pushed past and ran at a pair of nearby Legionnaires about to bring their rifles to bear. He dropped one with a burst to its face, then slipped in close to the second and drove his fist into its stomach, winding it badly. With a laugh he leapt up and grabbed it by the sides of its helmet and broke its neck with a quick twist.

Logan's machine gun was clicking on empty, so he quickly stowed it away and screwed his eyes shut, summoning up the arc energy from within. A second later it burst out from inside, suffusing his entire body, streaming right down to the tips of his toes and to his drawn knife. He glanced up through the haze of pulsing energy and saw more Legionnaires closing in, and with a twirl he was gone from sight, the trace of slugs going wide. The Legionnaires were too busy glancing back and forth rapidly and barking at each other in their guttural language when one of them was suddenly punched backwards, its side opened up from hip to armpit, and a split-second later crackling arc energy reduced it to molecules while its rifle clattered forgotten to the ground. The others jerked back in shock, and then there was a bolt of energy tearing in between and through them, atomising huge bodies with each slash of a knife crackling with arc energy.

Griff absorbed a few stray shots with his shield as he switched out his shotgun, and nailed the next Legionnaire to appear in the face, destroying its head entirely. He loaded a fresh shell and hit the second Legionnaire to appear in the stomach, then again in the chest, slamming it over, just as a third one suddenly loomed over him from behind, looking to engulf him in a crushing bear hug. He ducked low and turned sharply, crashing his fist into the side of its right knee, and there was a crack as the joint suddenly bent at an angle it wasn't meant to. The alien bleated as it went down, and then was cut off as a fusion bolt seared its head off, and the body crashed down like a felled oak. Griff glanced back at Elena, standing atop of the remains of the unfortunate Centurion. She flashed him a quick wave.

"Yeah, thanks," the Titan called out lightly.

There was another thirty seconds or so of rapid firing, and then there was a subsonic crack of pressure as Logan's Arc Blade ran out, and the Fireteam leader was standing amidst several discarded slug rifles, all that remained of his victims. He sheathed his knife and walked over towards the peculiar metallic cylinder the Cabal had been guarding.

"This is, Kal?" he asked aloud.

"That's it," the Ghost responded. "It's transmitting a signal that not only blocks our communications back and forth between our selves and the Tower, but also prevents Transmat actions."

"How the hell is that even possible?" asked Elena as she walked up. Logan was just opening his mouth to offer a reply when they heard the whine of turbine engines from somewhere to the Northeast, where they had originally come from. Their pursuers were drawing closer and closer.

"We can discuss it later," Griff said, turning and firing a quick burst from his rifle into the nearby generator. There was a spray of sparks and the turbine on the cylinder powered down with a tortured whine – which was quickly drowned out by the utterly alien and drawn out shriek which emanated from inside of the cylinder.

"The hell is that?!" blurted Logan, clearly distressed. Griff was clearly distressed too as he stepped forwards and slammed his first into the centre plate of the structure, buckling it badly. Then he hooked his fingers up underneath the raised edge of the buckled steel and wrenched it aside, exposing the structure's innards.

Though in truth it would have been better if Griff hadn't bothered.

Elena didn't see so much as hear the pained, manic screeches that burst out from the inside of the cylinder – a wild tangle of cables and wiring that surrounded the wasted, emaciated form of a Psion, though she couldn't be sure: she only had a glance before she had to turn away as the screaming became too much, and Griff tossed a grenade into the casing and pulled her away before it went off, cutting off the mad shrieking with a crump.

"Christ," gasped Logan a few feet away. "Let's never do that again, shall we?"

"It was like a Psion Flayer, like the ones at the Dust Palace," Griff explained to no-one in particular. "Damn it, they had it wired up to the brim. It was broadcasting that damn signal somehow!"

"We can worry about that later," Logan said, glancing back over his shoulder even as a pair of Harvesters were cresting over the top of nearby buildings. "Kal, find us a way out of here!"

"We could just trans"-

"Not here, not now," Logan interrupted curtly, "not when there's half a city worth of Cabal bearing down on us. They'd shoot our ships down before we get anywhere near the city limits/

"Point taken," Kal chimed, and then made an almost instantaneous calculation. "There should be another entrance to the underground to the south of us."

"Then let's go," Logan said, taking off at a sprint, the others following. As they ran, Cabal perched up in the open cargo bays of their Harvesters opened fire, their slugs punching shallow craters into the concrete ground. A Centurion bellowed incentive from its perch as Legionnaires dropped down, igniting their jump packs.

Logan and Elena hurdled over a rusted car wreck that blocked their path, while Griff simply shoulder-charged straight through it, sending it spinning away. Behind him, two Legionnaires came into view, their jump packs blazing flame as they came on. The Titan turned and fired, cutting them both down, but not before the second one blazed off a quick burst and Griff's shield flickered and weakened, and a stray round grazed his left shoulder, leaving a seared tract in his plasteel shoulder pad.

"Griff!" cried Elena.

"I'm fine!" the Titan yelled back, already turning as several more Legionnaires approached, and Fireteam Onyx ran on. Kal directed them this way and that, and soon enough they came to a road where a huge crater had been unearthed, exposing a shaded drop down into another length of subway tunnel.

"There!" Logan cried, turning long enough to toss a grenade overhand. It bounced twice off the ground and went off in the face of the Legionnaire leading the chase, blowing it back off its feet. "In!"

"Here we go again!" Griff called out, dropping feet first into the crater and running on into the darkness of the tunnel. Elena was close behind him, and then Logan was last in, chased by slug fire. He fired back a few shots over the lip of the crater as more Cabal were drawing in. The scream of Harvester engines was almost constant now, along with the thuds of huge boots and the roars of alien throats.

The first thirty yards or so of the tunnel was lit just enough for them to see the way ahead, but then it immediately dropped off into almost pitch blackness. They ran on a little further – dodging around the faint outlines of walls and other solid objects, and then after a few more seconds they were plunged into an inky blackness, accompanied only by their breathing, and lit only by the slight glow from Logan's visor.

"Well," said Griff after a brief pause, "this is turning out to be a productive day so far."

"Lights up," was all Logan said, and in unison all three of them revealed their Ghosts and swung them around to light up the tunnel. Elena turned an almost full one-eight degrees to check the narrow passage behind her.

And she came face to face with a Fallen Vandal.

"Shit!" she barked, jumping back and firing her handcannon on reflex. The centre of the Vandal's skull just caved in on itself as the heavy slug tore straight through its mask and skull and crated the wall behind it. But instead of their being a tearing of flesh and the spraying of blood, there was just a dry crack and then the body lurched sideways, dust trailing from its shattered helmet.

"What the hell?!" spluttered Elena as she stepped back in shock, still aiming down at the body. And it was then she saw how emaciated and worn down it was, the armour pitted and corroded, the flesh shrivelled.

"Good job Elena, I think you killed it," chuckled Griff, stepping up. She shoved him angrily in the shoulder in response.

"Hey. Look at this," Scarlett announced, playing his little beam around in a wide arc, illuminating a part of the tunnel where a train car had come off the rails and ploughed straight the wall, opening up into another cavernous sewer tunnel. The three Guardians stood on the lip of the impromptu entrance, just staring.

"How…?" managed Elena after what seemed like an age.

The tunnel was piled high with Fallen corpses. They could see Dregs, Vandals, even Captains and Barons among the crush of tarnished armour, shredded bodysuits and desiccated flesh, jammed in tight together, shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip, like sardines in a can. Littered amongst them were the shattered remains of Shanks and seven Servitors, their shells cracked open and their inner workings cannibalised. The stench of dirt, decay and dried Ether was almost unbearable.

"How many?" asked Griff quietly. Logan said nothing, glancing back and forth. At that moment, Kal suddenly mineralised and he buzzed his way down the tunnel, playing his beam back and forth.

"Five hundred and twelve corpses so far, and rising," the Ghost announced as it continued on its flight. "Now counting nine hundred and six. All of them bear traces of the identification codes given to members of the House of Falcons."

"So that's what happened to them," Elena observed. "The Cabal came and wiped them out."

"Seeing what's up there, I'm not surprised," Griff added. "I know they're all our enemies, but it hardly seems a fair fight."

"More news we can pass onto the Vanguard when we get back," Logan said. "Kal – get as much as you can from the bodies, it might give us an edge back home."

"As you wish, Logan."

Behind them, there was a loud crump, and then the entire tunnel shook, shaking dust and debris down from the ceiling. They glanced back the way they had come and heard the bellowing voices of approaching Cabal, and saw the twin spears of shoulder-mounted lamps illuminating the way forwards.

"Oh crap," Logan whispered, turning to face the others. "Come on, we need to keep moving, stay ahead of them." With that, all three of them were on the run once more, pursued through the inky blackness by searching beams of light.

* * *

When Fireteam Onyx had first made landing, Old London might as well have been a dead city, populated only by the rusted remnants of mankind's Golden Age and of the Fallen scavengers that had come shortly after the Collapse, but now it was buzzing with activity as Harvesters went to and fro, deploying their living cargo. Colossi planted themselves at major crossroads and junctions to cover entire streets with their weapons, while squads of phalanxes lead Legionnaires through bombed-out buildings and streets, searching for the interlopers.

Close to the north bank of the Thames, Onyx emerged into the light from a plainly-decorated maintenance entrance to the side of a main underground entrance. At the front, a pair of Legionnaires were standing guard, communicating in their coarse language, waiting for reinforcements before they went in.

"This way," whispered Logan, heading off towards the riverside while Griff watched the Cabal with a sharp eye. Luckily, they were more interested in the underground entrance, and didn't notice the Guardians close by.

Logan lead them over to an open paved area looking over the stagnant river, choked with centuries worth of filth and wreckage. On the south side of the city, they could see the Harvesters moving to and fro, dipping in low to drop off their passengers, and then peeling away to resume their patrolling of the skies. Elena watched them carefully as Logan extended his arm and summoned Kal into being.

"Okay Kal, this is a good spot," the Hunter announced, "call in the ships, but chart the safest possible route for them. It's no good if they blunder into an occupied area and get shot down."

"On it," the Ghost chimed, and then its facial plates clicked and whirred subtlety as it obeyed the command. A second later, the plates formed into its default expression and Kal announced, "done. Ships are en route."

"Thanks Kal," Elena replied. "Let's hope we don't get interrupted till"-

She was cut off by the sudden _boom_ of an explosion going off and the building behind Griff was suddenly torn apart in a flurry of flame and shrapnel, pelting his shield with shards of brick and stone, and the Titan turned as quickly as he could manage but there was a massive Cabal brute – huge by even the standards of his own kind – was right there in Griff's face, and one massive paw slapped aside his rifle like a child's toy, and then came right back and clamped around his helmet, engulfing it in its massive digits. The Titan was lifted up, his legs dangling uselessly as he grabbed at the thick wrist. His helmet was actually crumpling like a tin can.

" _Griff!"_ Elena managed to scream, but then the massive Cabal was suddenly flanked by several Legionnaires who came right at the other Guardians, leaving Griff to fend for himself as he was unceremoniously tossed through the air like a ragdoll, and he crashed through the front wall of a neighbouring building, throwing up a cloud of dust, before the floor above him collapsed on top of him. In the next instant, Logan and Elena were surrounded by an angry buzzing of slug rounds tearing all around them.

The Hunter tossed a grenade with his left arm and fired from the hip with his other. The grenade blew apart two Legionnaires and his rifle cut another down by tearing through its stomach, while Elena fired off another Nova Bomb that shook the ground and annihilated a half dozen more in a flash of purple light. Behind that the massive Cabal – a huge crest extending up from the top of its helmet – backhanded another Legionnaire aside so it could get closer. It swung its slug rifle around wide, prepared to fire in a moment's notice.

Elena cried out suddenly as a quick burst of slugs hammered against her shield with enough force to knock her down, leaving her sprawling across the dusty concrete, her handcannon going wide. Then another one collapsed the shield with a bright flicker and Logan saw the spray of sparks as another slug punched right through her left shoulder and kept on going, slamming her to the floor again.

 _No!_

Logan threw his arm out and his knife went spinning out, end over end, to plant itself through the eyeslit of a nearby Legionnaire that was moving to attack, As it keeled over he raised his rifle and fired off the remainder of the clip in short order, catching the huge Cabal in the faceplate and sending it stumbling backwards a step. Then he darted forwards and hooked a hand underneath Elena's armpit, dragging her backwards. Despite the hit she had just taken, she was awake.

"Shit," she groaned, as he pulled her back a little further and she promptly grabbed up her handcannon and started to fire back from her prone position. "They got me good."

"You okay?" shouted Logan over the noise, as he dragged her behind a collapsed chunk of masonry and let go, taking up his Black Spindle and beginning the extended reloading procedure. Elena sat up against the masonry, then shakily planted her feet and shook her head.

"I'm okay," she gasped back, snapping open the handcannon's chamber and reloading it. "That big one…not a Centurion – a Primus?"

"Probably," Logan answered, finally reloading the machine gun and preparing to fire it. "We've killed a few of those over the days, right?" Elena glanced over at him and let out a sharp laugh, leaning around the cover and snapping off a quick shot, taking the head off of a nearby Legionnaire.

"Yes, so let's go again," Elena answered, decapitating a second Legionnaire just as another line of Cabal thudded down onto the concrete, forming a wall of slug rifles that immediately washed the entire area in red tracers that forced the two Guardians down low, just as Griff made his entrance back into the battle.

Behind the line of Legionnaires, there was a sudden _pop_ of air pressure and the piled rubble suddenly burst apart in a cloud of dust and chipped brick. The temperature seemed to increase a few degrees into the bargain, and the two cowering Guardians glanced up in time to see a sudden heat haze falling across the riverside square, and many of the Cabal turned to look too. And then they saw the figure of Griff standing there, atop the crumbled stone, flames of pure solar energy emanating from his arms, licking up around his armour plates and issuing off the back of his helmet.

In his right hand was clutched the Hammer of Sol, forged from pure solar energy.

With a bellowing war cry issuing from inside his crushed helm, Griff bought his arm back and tossed the hammer at the nearest Legionnaire. It erupted into solar fire that engulfed three of the hulking aliens and reduced them all to dust and embers in a split-second. Griff bought his arm back and the hammer returned in an instant, and then he leapt from his perch, slamming the blazing weapon down into the face plate of a Phalanx that turned to meet him head-on, crushed in an instant. Then he jerked back and swung the hammer in an upwards arc to his left and took the head off a Legionnaire trying to flank him.

"Well, they did drop a building on him," Elena reasoned. "What did they think would happen?"

"Come on, time to finish this!" Logan shouted, rising from his cover and opening up with the Black Spindle, the machine gun cutting down three and then four Cabal in quick succession, striding to the left while Elena went right, cracking off precise shots with her cannon, before quickly tossing out a Flux grenade that attached to the shoulder of a Phalanx, and then detonated in a bright flash of void energy that disintegrated two of the shielded aliens. They moved in closer to Griff's position.

Griff took the head off of another Legionnaire with a backhanded swing of his hammer, then spun to face the towering Primus as it boosted right at him, looking to drive a massive fist into his face, but Griff darted to the side and flicked his hammer up and to the right, knocking the Cabal's slug rifle away instead. It sailed far off and dropped into the Thames, out of sight. But the Primus barely seemed fazed as it promptly reached out with its free hand to crush the Titan's skull.

But Griff wasn't about to fall for the same trick twice and ducked, swinging the hammer's spike down, through the Primus' foot. The huge alien bleated in agony and threw its head back, and Griff pulled the hammer free and smashed it sideways into the Primus' right knee, bending the joint back at an angle it wasn't designed to bend and it went down as the bones in its lower leg crumbled to dust. Then a backhand swing smashed into the side of its helmet and it jerked away from the sheer force, just as a Phalanx came up and rammed its shield into his back.

Griff stumbled and nearly fell, but turned and swung his hammer with both hands, smashing its chest armour in and throwing it a good twenty feet backwards before the solar energy crisped it to ash. Behind him the Primus hauled itself forward despite a crushed knee and reached for Griff once more.

Griff spun his hammer round and drove the spike through the spot just under the breastplate and the hulking Cabal nearly folded in half, a pained gasp issuing from its helmet. Then Griff ripped it free – the scalding solar energy cauterising the wound immediately – leapt up as high as he could manage and bought the hammer down, two-handed, right onto the crown of the Primus' helmet. There was an awful crunch of alien alloy, bone and sinew, and then the Primus' entire skull just erupted into a spray of blood, shredded flesh, bone fragments, and shards of helmet. The only part which was saved was the great red crest that snapped off and toppled to the ground.

Griff landed on his spread feet as the massive corpse let out a groan and collapsed sideways like a felled oak tree, before the solar energy caught up and began to disintegrate it from top to toe. But the Titan was already turning away, the Hammer of Sol and his solar aura fading away to nothing. Then he was suddenly looking unsteady on his feet and swayed a couple times, before his hand shot out to grab for some support on a fallen Cabal corpse.

At the same time, they all heard the sound of the sound barrier being broken, and they glanced back to see their ships coming in to a holding pattern, above the Thames, chased by the tracers of AA-fire.

"That's our cue to go!" Logan called, rising from cover and spraying off a few more shots from the Black Spindle, already preparing to give Kal the order to trasmat them out of there, while Elena was moving and Griff pushed himself upright, drawing his shotgun. Logan's arm went up to his ear-

And then an agony he hadn't experienced for a while suddenly lanced through his left forearm, and his blood – such a vibrant red that it shocked him – sprayed out and across the ground. He dropped the Spindle in an instance and let out a cry, even as he saw the shimmering field beside him drop away to reveal one of those Feral Psions, left arm extended with its claws piercing Logan's arm, and the other set coming in low to pierce his stomach-

Then Elena's handcannon roared in his ear and the Psion shrieked and flailed backwards, its claws tearing free from Logan's arm, and the Hunter went down on one knee, grabbing at his wound, watching more blood – _his_ blood – spurting out of the gash, staining his clothing. He looked up at the flailing, wounded Psion as it scampered out of reach, but a second booming retort from Elena's cannon smashed it to the ground, the concrete splashed with purple.

Logan tried to get back to his feet, but he slipped and went back down on one knee. The whole world seemed to lurch in front of his ears, his hearing seemed to dull as well. He was only vaguely aware of the crack and bark of weapons firing, of the dull roars of the Cabal as they moved in.

"Logan!"

He blinked and his sense seemed to clear, as Elena caught hold of him by the elbow and hauled him upright, and he was suddenly holding his scout rifle, turning and firing as though on autopilot, and he saw a Legionnaire buckle and fall. He saw the stained red gauntlet on his left hand, and clenched his fist harder. The pain was subsiding somewhat as his infusion of Light did its work.

" _Logan, ships are in transmat range!"_ cried Kal's voice inside his helmet. Logan glanced up as the shadows of the vessels fell across them.

"Then get us out of here, _now!_ " Logan barked back, and in an instant all three of them were wreathed in white light and then he was dropped into the worn leather of his pilot's seat, all manner of alarms and alerts flashing on the instruments in front of him. Tracers from anti-aircraft fire screamed past the cockpit view, and the whole ship shuddered from the odd impact.

"We have a course set for the Tower!" Elena yelled at him through the comms.

"Then take it, go!" Logan screamed back, slamming his fist down upon the controls and then his ship lurched to the left and ignited its engines, tearing away from the riverside, chased by even more tracers and the slower Harvesters.

Looking down from his perch, Griff saw glimpses of Cabal squads stationed on rooftops, around large multi-barrelled cannons that traced their flight path by way of automated systems, but were way too slow to get a bead on them. He saw the Harvesters disgorging dozens of squads of Legionnaires and Phalanxes onto the streets, and he saw Goliath tanks moving to reinforce particular street corners and junctions, the ships moving too fast to be caught in the crosshairs of their main plasma cannons.

But it was when they had broken free from the inner city that they saw the worst destruction imaginable.

"You seeing that?" asked Griff through the comms speakers, leaning around in his seat.

"I see it," said Logan solemnly.

Cayde had told them the House of Falcons had landed their Ketch on the south bank of the river, and now they could see where it had attempted to flee, only to be bought down like some great beast. The massive craft had gouged a trench two miles long from where it had gone down, and had broken into three distinct pieces as it fell. Small wreckage dotted the baked ground around the wreck, and in the shadows of the rusted fuselage was a Cabal base, much like the ones on Mars, bristling with towers, banks of searchlights and much more besides.

"By the Traveller," Elena whispered through the speakers.

"The Cabal took it all over," Griff added. "The Fallen didn't stand a chance."

"…Onyx! Fireteam Onyx!" a voice blared through the ship's speakers. It was Commander Zavla, sounding just a little concerned. "Fireteam Onyx, do you read?"

"We read you Commander," Logan answered. "Sorry if we worried you all, but we had to clear the blocked channels before we could even transmat out…and we've got bad news for you…a lot of bad news."

"You can save it for when you all get back here," Cayde chipped in, "sounds like you all had fun."

There was a bark of sarcastic laughter from Griff's cockpit. "Is that what you call it?"

"We need a med-team on standby too for when we come in," Elena chipped in. "We've all taken hits out there."

"Acknowledged, Onyx."

Logan let out a sigh and reclined slightly in his seat, clutching at his wounded arm. Down below, the blasted landscape of Old London gave way to roling green hills and fields, and then the infinite blue of the sea as the ships crossed over the English Channel. He let the comms conversation wash over him as he closed his eyes, believing firmly that the near future would be very busy indeed for all involved.

 **A/N: Hey everyone. Sorry for the longer than usual delay in this chapter coming out, but I had a lot of work-related things to deal with and it got put onto the back burner. But anyways, it is hear now, so R & R as normal please. All feedback is appreciated.**


	6. Threat Levels

**Chapter 6: Threat Levels**

It was awfully quiet in the Vanguard Hall, after the three leaders had ejected all other personnel, including the assistance Frames, while they pored over the data that Fireteam Onyx had bought back from London. There was plenty of it, and it served as a sobering study. Hundreds of image captures from the Ghosts of Fireteam Onyx slowly rotated around the central table, interspersed with line upon line of coded data recovered from the slain Cabal, from their beacon trap, and from the ruined Fallen sensors and architecture that remained in Old London. All of the leaders – even Cayde – were silent as they reviewed what they looking at, sharing the odd questioning glance.

"It just isn't possible," Ikora said finally, shaking her head.

"Look at the pictures, Ikora," Cayde answered, reaching out and brushing aside several of the holograms, drawing up a few larger images of the blue-armoured Cabal, along with the close-up of their shoulder badge, taken from a slain Legionnaire. "They don't lie, and you saw the state those kids were in when they came back. The Cabal are on Earth, at least a full Legion's worth, and if it is the Legion I'm thinking of then we are all up that one particular creek without a paddle."

The fact that Cayde didn't take the chance to make a stupid joke during his little tirade just reinforced the seriousness of the situation. After Fireteam Onyx had come back to the Tower and unloaded off all of the collected data, all of them had been carted off to the infirmary to be checked over. Each of them had at least one serious injury: Logan's left arm had been transfixed by a sharp blade, Elena had taken a through-and-through to the shoulder and Griff had taken the brunt of a pissed-off Cabal Primus' assault, having a building collapse on top of him into the bargain.

"But the Cabal, here…on _Earth_ ," Zavala added, more to process the revelation than anything else. "The Cabal are destructive warmongers, and yet they were hiding out on our planet, without us knowing. How is that even possible?"

"Onyx said these Cabal had cannibalised Fallen tech and used it for their own gains," Cayde answered, "so that could be the reason. They were making sure their own signals were blocked"-

"No, it's not just that," Zavala countered. "They were patient. _Very_ patient, even for their kind. They could have struck out and crushed us the second they touched down on this planet, but no. They took over Old London, cannibalised Fallen tech, hunkered down and consolidated their positions until the time was right to strike."

"To strike for what?" Ikora asked. "Their false beacon lured in a single fireteam of Guardians, and then they pursued them with everything they had. We all know how skilled Onyx are, but even that action seemed blown out of proportion. This must be an opening gambit, a show of force."

The other two remained silent, mulling on those thoughts. She had a point.

"We don't know enough yet," the Warlock continued with a sigh, spreading a palm across the table surface and using her other hand to spread out the holographic images. Several of them went spinning away, like falling snowflakes drifting from the winter sky before vanishing from sight. "We don't know their exact strengths and numbers, and we don't know how much of the House of falcon's tech they have assimilated and use. We need to get more of our Guardians in London and scout the city out so we know what we're up against."

"Oh that's a relief," said Cayde with a hint of his customary sarcasm. "For a second there I thought you were going to suggest we get a Warlock in Old London, like you always suggest."

The slight tugging of the edges of his mouth suggested that the Hunter Vanguard had found his confidence was starting to return after the initial shock of what they were looking at. But he didn't push it any further as he received a harsh glare from his Warlock counterpart. The flat palm on the desk had curled into a fist now.

"I agree with Ikora," Zavala said, quickly defusing the situation and prompting his colleague's gazes on him. "We don't know enough yet before we authorise any larger action. We have to get a Fireteam in Old London and have them set up some navigation beacons to lead more of our forces in so we can cover more ground quicker." Cayde and Ikora nodded grimly.

"Well Onyx are still recovering, so they're out of the question," Cayde figured.

"Contact Elijah and Fireteam Opal in that case," Ikora added. "They've been hanging around our chambers ever since Onyx set out to begin with." But that was no surprise to the Vanguard. Since Oryx's fall, the sullen Hunter Elijah and his comrades had always been eager to grab any scrap offered in the wake of Onyx's glories.

"Of course, let Elijah give them hell for a while," Cayde chuckled, and there was no protest from the others.

At that moment, there was a sudden high-pitched chiming sound that came from the sealed doors, and three heads whipped around to face them. "I said we were not to be disturbed for any reason!" bellowed Zavla, his usual composure gone. A voice sounded through a small set of speakers set into the wall beside the doors.

"Forgive me Commander"-

"Come on through," sighed Zavala, and the doors opened at his voice command to allow entry to Master Rahool, the Cryptarch. The man in his bright robes shuffled in, clutching a data slate, and approached the gathered Vanguard leaders, casting a worried glance across at the holograph images floating above the table.

"You have something for us, Master Raahool?" asked Ikora.

"Uh…yes," the Cryptarch answered in his measured tones, glancing down at his slate and thumbing through the text. "Myself and my colleagues have been working on that 'distress' signal that Fireteam Onyx extracted from the beacon in Old London. As you know, our language ciphers for the Cabal are limited"-

"Well what did you learn anyway?" interrupted Cayde, impatiently.

"For one, it isn't a distress signal, more a statement of intent. There are a few references to 'bowing down' and 'curs' and…a few other impolite references to humanity I won't go into…but the name 'Planet Crackers' is mentioned several times."

The room went silent.

"You still think that things aren't that bad, Ikora?" sighed Cayde.

* * *

"I know it just goes in one ear and out the other Logan, but please try and keep your arm still for the immediate future."

"I have to get out there sooner or later, Doctor. Lying around just isn't my style."

He was laid up on a reclining cot in the Tower's infirmary wing, his armour and cloak gone, leaving him wearing just a simple white vest and trousers, his feet bare. Like everything else in the wing, the room was stark white, set off by the odd detail in black plasteel, such as the doors and the medical equipment used by the staff. In the outside corridor, doctors and nurses moved to and fro.

A sigh emanated from the female doctor perched on the seat beside Logan's bed, and she leaned back. Doctor Amanda Chell had served in the Tower infirmary for the past three years, and she'd been there time and again to get Logan and his friends back on their feet when needed. She was approaching her mid thirties, with short blonde hair in a bob cut, a dusting of freckles and green eyes that seemed full of bemusement at the world around her.

Born and raised in the City, she had helped her doctor parents out in one of the tiny local clinics down in the slums of the City proper, where her nimble hands and cool focus under pressure caught the attention of the Guardians, and she was soon invited up into the Tower, where she now headed up one of the many medical teams tending to the Traveller's warriors. Though the infusion of Light each Guardian received helped boost their natural healing processes at a considerable rate, more serious injuries still required a doctor's aid. Doctor Chell and her colleagues had learned a lot about unusual biology quickly while working up here.

"Oh I know," she smiled, "all you Hunters must travel. That wanderlust always tugs at your heart, doesn't it?"

"Wanderlust?" asked Logan, cradling his bruised left arm to his body. "No, I think I might be claustrophobic. I prefer open spaces."

"Well, there's that too."

"What about the others?" Logan asked, staring at the purple and yellow bruises that were creeping up his limb, peeking out from beneath the wrap of bandages on his arm.

"Well Elena is stable and put up next door," Doctor Chell replied. "The engineers repaired the worst of the external damage, and they just left a nanobot infusion in order to complete the internal repairs. As for Griff…he's up and walking, but we want to keep him here until we at least do a scan of his head. That Cabal could have crushed his helm like a grape."

"Jesus."

"I know," Doctor Chell sighed. "If he wasn't Griff, he would probably be dead."

"Good thing he is then," Logan said with a slight smile. "Can I go and see them?"

"If you're feeling up to it, then yes you can," the doctor answered, standing up, "long as you don't go sneaking out the doors when I'm not looking. Now if you'll excuse me, I have other patients to attend to."

"Anyone we know?"

"No, just a couple of Fireteams of the less seasoned Guardians. Apparently they came from Mars. They had a rather close-run encounter with a Cabal patrol, except theirs was a lot smaller than the ones you ran into, I'm sure." And with that, she turned and walked out, the automatic doors parting at her approach.

"Sure it was," grunted Logan, swinging his legs off to the side and getting to his feet, moving over towards the reinforced glass window looking out across the main plaza of the Tower, as well as giving him a clear view of the hangar entrance. Guardian ships were moving in and out almost constantly, as was the way of things up here.

"Logan?"

"Yes Kal?" asked Logan as he glanced up at the subdued reflection of his Ghost, hovering just behind his left shoulder. "Something on your mind…or whatever it is you Ghosts have?" The little machine's face plates formed into an annoyed expression, but then relented.

"I've just received an encrypted communication from the Vanguard. They've sent Fireteam Opal into Old London so they can deploy some nav beacons, to get some more feet on the ground there, before a larger operation gets sanctioned."

"Elijah, eh?" asked Logan. "Good. Let him tear those Cabal a new one." In contrast to Logan's contrasted style of careful observation combined with bursts of intense action that could decimate the forces of the Darkness, pretty much everyone on the Tower knew of Elijah's bellicose nature – he wouldn't sneak a way around the Cabal blockades, he'd just punch straight through them.

"Logan?"

"Yes Kal?" sighed Logan, getting a little impatient with the constant questioning.

"I was just wondering what you were thinking about," the little Ghost admitted, a little sheepishly. "You've got that look in your eyes when you're thinking about something important. Like you always did after"-

Kal faltered. "Like after…the _unpleasantness_." Logan took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Yes, I am thinking Kal. I'm thinking about everything that's happened in the last two years," Logan explained, opening his eyes. "Eighteen months ago, I was _dead_. Just a batch of bones out in Old Russia, until you came along and bought me back. And then everything that's happened since then. The Black Garden, Crota…Oryx. And now _this_. If the Cabal come here… to the City-"

There was no reply from the little machine at his side, for once. And so Logan opened his eyes and went to looking back out at the vista before him, his mind wandering back, a long time back, not long after his career as a Guardian had begun.

 **Two years ago…**

Logan, the Hunter. A Guardian who had only just dipped his toe into the waters of serving as a warrior of Light, and had somehow slain a Fallen Archon on his first official foray into the field. He didn't mean to slay such a great foe so soon: he just wanted the warp drive it had scavenged. But word had clearly spread quickly, and on his return trip Kal had alerted him to an invite from the Tower, to meet with the Speaker.

According to Kal, this Speaker was the high priest who supposedly 'spoke' for the Traveller, though how that exactly worked was anyone's guess.

Logan had just walked into the Speaker's study – set off in one of the side wings of the Tower, and was immediately greeted by a clear view of the Traveller itself, through a wide opening in the Tower wall. From here he had a clearer view of the immense sphere, its surface marked and pitted with scorch patterns and other battle damage, shrouded in wisps of light cloud. Before it was standing a console projecting a holographic display of the Traveller. It must have been quite a sight, once upon a time. For a while he just stood there, admiring the view.

"There was a time…when we were much more powerful."

The soft but clear voice prompted Logan to turn, and standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to a busy study was a man clothed in white robes, his neck and head area swathed in a black shawl, his face disguised with a white mask. At his throat was the small tri-symbol of the Guardians. The Speaker was glancing at the Traveller as he spoke, as though he sensed Logan's thoughts. Then he turned to look at Logan directly.

"…But that was a long time ago."

The Speaker descended the last few steps until he was on Logan's level, speaking as he went. "Until it wakes and finds its voice once more, I am the one who speaks for the Traveller."

"So, you're the Speaker," Logan said, more of a statement than a question, and he found himself bowing slightly from the waist, feeling a sudden need to show his respect. But the robed priest didn't even seem to notice, as he motioned for Logan to walk with him, approaching the edge of the holographic display.

"You must have no end of questions, Guardian," he then said, echoing Kal's own curt comments upon Logan's revival. "You spent so long as crumbling bones out in the wilderness, only to be bought back to all of…this."

 _You can say that again,_ thought Logan.

"But you should know this: In its dying breath the Traveller created the Ghosts, to seek out those who can wield its Light as a weapon – the Guardians, to protect us, and do what the Traveller itself no longer can do," the Speaker continued, as Kal flew up closer towards the Traveller, examining it with the clicking and subtle whirring of his face plates.

"I see," Logan said, nodding. "It's still protecting humanity, through us. Right?" The Speaker just nodded with the infinite patience of someone who had had this conversation countless times before. "…But what happened to it?"

The Speaker didn't reply instantly that time, and instead lowered his head and shoulders, as though speaking of it only caused pain and distress. "I could tell you of the great battle, centuries ago," he began quietly, "how the Traveller was driven back here, how it was crippled and now lies inert. I could tell you of the power of the Darkness, its ancient enemy."

 _The Darkness?_ Thought Logan to himself. _Do the Fallen serve the Darkness then?_

The Speaker was pacing away from Logan now as he continued his story. "There are many tales, told throughout the City to frighten children. Lately those tales have stopped. Now…the children are frightened anyway."

Logan remained still and quiet, as the Speaker turned to face him again, now standing beside what looked like a holo-sphere of the Galaxy, the bright blazing core of the sun surrounded by dozens of smaller pricks of light, swirling in and around constantly. "But now the Darkness is coming back. And we will not survive it this time…not in our current state."

Logan glanced across at Kal, who just tilted his form up and down to copy a human nod. "It's true. The armies of the Darkness are surrounding us. The Fallen are just the tip of the iceberg."

"What can I do to stop them then?" Logan asked, his fists clenched. He had only just come back into this world, and now he wanted to do his utmost to protect it from ruin. The Speaker didn't show any outward reaction, but the Hunter sensed that he was pleased with Logan's eagerness.

"You must push back the Darkness," he said firmly, taking measured steps forwards. "Guardians are fighting on Earth, and beyond. Find them, join them. Meet the forces of the Darkness head on and deny them. Destroy their bulwarks, slay their leaders, disrupt their movements. Look to your Ghost, and he will guide you on this path."

Guardian and Ghost shared a quick glance.

"I only hope it chose wisely," the Speaker finished. And with that, he turned and began to walk towards the steps again. And with that, the conversation was at its end. Logan watched the white-robed man go, and then glanced at Kal.

"So…did you choose wisely?" he asked.

"I did…I'm sure of it," Kal answered without hesitation. "We're in this together, now. I won't steer you wrong, Logan."

"I'm glad to hear that," smiled the Hunter, and made a move towards the exit. There was much to be done.

"Guardian?"

Logan stopped and whirled about at the sound of the Speaker's voice. The robed man was stood at the top of his steps, just watching. "What is your name, if you do not mind my asking?"

"Logan."

The Speaker continued to watch Logan for a few seconds longer, and then finally he said, "I sense a great potential in you Logan, as does the Traveller. I hope that potential serves the City well."

* * *

 **Present Day...**

That had been almost two years ago, and with the Speaker's blessing he had gone on to achieve more than he would ever hope to achieve as a Guardian. Though immediately after that talk he wouldn't have believed it himself, as his next mission had dropped him into a Hive nest below the cosmodrome in Old Russia, nearly overwhelmed by shrieking hordes. He was glad the Speaker didn't see that…

"…Logan?"

"Yes."

"…you were thinking again, weren't you?" Kal asked.

"Yes Kal, I was thinking again," he groaned, pushing away from the window. "Now come on, I want to go see the others now." With a downcast look, Kal buzzed along behind his master as Logan stepped out of the room and headed down the corridor to find Griff and Elena.

He found the former first, in a windowed room much like Logan's, and like Logan he was in simple white pants and a vest, exposing his muscular physique, broad arms covered in black and purple swirls of tattoos. He was standing in the centre of the room, arms stretched high above his head, easily laid flat against the ceiling.

"Glad to see you on your feet," Logan commented as he leaned up against the doorway, arms crossed in front of him.

"You know I don't belong here," Griff replied, staring straight ahead. "I'm a Titan, I should be out there, not laid up while doctors poke and prod at me every which way." Logan glanced sideways, across to where Griff's armour had been laid out after he been first brought in and examined. Now Logan could see the damage it had received in Old London: he saw the claw gouges across the breastplate from those Feral Psions in the sewers, and he saw the burn marks from slug rounds that had glanced off the shoulder and elsewhere.

And then there was the helmet. Its sides were badly crumpled, almost like a sheet of tin, both by the crushing grasp of the Primus and the collapsing rubble that had buried the Titan for at least a minute. It was a miracle that he hadn't been killed outright.

"You'll need a new suit of armour though," Logan said eventually.

"Good excuse to raid the wardrobe, at any rate," smiled Griff, taking his arms down and then stretching them back behind him. "Docs want to give me an MRI before I go, But till then I'm not stuck in here, so I'd like to go and check in with El."

"Yeah, I was on my way through as well," Logan nodded, and he lead the way out of the room, the padding of Griff's bare feet following him out. Then it was just a quick left turn and a few yards along the way, where they found Elena-4 was put up in a sizeable corner room, with one entire side wall looking out over the grand gardens of the Tower.

Elena was sat in a reclined seat, reading over a data slate while she was surrounded by several more, making notes on a pad of yellowed paper with a piece of graphite. She was in the simple white clothes as the others, but now they could see the opened 'wound' in her left shoulder, a great tear in her body plating with a multitude of exposed wires and circuitry inside which was far beyond much of the other technology seen in the much more basic Frames. And at a closer glance they could see the miniscule motions of tiny nanomachines inside the tear, gradually knitting Elena's internal circuitry back together.

"Hey guys," she smiled, red eyes widening slightly as she glanced up at them, glancing back down at the slate she held and making some quick notes with a stylus.

"Homework?" asked Griff, indicating towards the pile of slates.

"Something to occupy me, more like," Elena responded. "There was just so much we found out there, guys. I have to keep doing my part for the Vanguard, even if I'm laid up in here."

"Oh come on, we'll be back out there in next to no time," Griff chuckled, pointing at her wound. "Those little miracles of technology will have you patched up in next to no time."

"Might be too late," Elena replied, holding up the slate she had been reading when they came in. "Word's come in from the Vanguard. They've given Fireteam Opal the opportunity to go into London, start laying the groundwork for the rest of us to follow through and start the fightback."

"So they let Eli off the leash," Logan said, more of a statement than a question. "Good. Let him take those frustrations out on the Cabal. They'll never know what hit 'em."

"Say that again," Elena replied. "But other than that, I'm starting to get seriously worried about those Cabal. Such as their position compared to this City."

"Yes," sighed Logan, turning to look out of the window. "They're a day or two's flight from here, tops. And they're clearly preparing themselves for something big."

"Yes," Elena agreed, pulling out another slate and holding it up for the others to read. "Scarlett was going over the data we managed to pull out from those Fallen bodies down in the sewers…"

"Indeed," the Ghost interrupted, appearing out of nowhere and projecting a series of images and scrolling text onto the stark wall beside Logan and Griff. It showed the piled Fallen dead, along with a scrolling report in the Fallen language. "I was able to extract several coded fragments of situation reports from some of those Fallen, and the last dates corroborate with three years ago, and the abrupt ending of said reports suggests that is when the Cabal first came to Old London."

"Three years," Griff echoed, "and since then they've dug in and readied themselves for whatever their final plan is. And why would they put out a fake distress signal to lure in Guardians?"

"It was a statement of intent," Logan said confidently. "As though they were saying 'look how close we are to your front door'."

"Well that's one way of looking at it."

They all glanced up to see Cayde-6 standing in the doorway of the room, leaning up against the frame, arms crossed. Then he pushed himself off and walked a short distance into the centre.

"…and the fact they've managed to cannibalise and effectively utilise Fallen tech into their armaments suggests that this is a _very_ patient enemy that has spent the best part of three years analysing their own strengths – which are many, and our weaknesses – which are also many. In short: we're deep in the doo-doo."

"Eloquent as always, Cayde," deadpanned Griff.

"Why thank you," responded the Hunter Vanguard with a quick bow of reverence, but then he glanced away and he suddenly became serious again. "Okay…so we're pretty sure about who those Cabal are and why they're here. You ever heard about the Planet Crackers legion?" Griff and Elena glanced at one another, and then at Logan, who was staring at a point on the far wall, remembering something. Then he looked at Cayde directly.

"I remember first time on Mars, Kal told me that the Cabal blew up planets for getting in their way…that wasn't him just being dramatic, was it?" At that remark, he saw that Kal had appeared and was watching Logan with a narrowed glare of his single eye.

"No, he meant that," Cayde said softly. "If we could, we could go out there and follow a line of broken worlds all the way back to their home world. And the Planet Crackers are the ones who are behind those planet destroying antics. Considerable in number and experienced to the point where they make the Blind Legion look like weekend warriors."

"Why didn't we hear about them until now?" Elena asked. "I've been through the archive material in Old Accre so many times and I never found a single concrete reference to these Planet Crackers."

"Hell, _we_ all thought they never existed," Cayde shrugged. "You know, like one of those rumours that are spread to instill fear into the enemy. Like 'Hey, those Cabal we just wiped the floor with weren't that tough, right?' Wrong: they've just bought in a Legion who blow up planets for a living. And oh look, you're dead."

It was a statement typical of Cayde's unconventional personality, but it made his point succinctly enough. These 'Planet Crackers' seemed to be the trump card of the Cabal, hidden out of sight until the appropriate moment presented itself. And with the slaughter of the other Legions on Mars with Oryx's coming, that moment had finally come to make themselves known.

"…but anyways, we know they exist now, and now we have to think of a plan before we're all obliterated."

Logan was just about to open his mouth to point out how melodramatic Cayde was sounding at that moment when there was a loud crackling of static, and the projection screen in the room suddenly burst into life, a square of snow flashed onto the wall. They all jumped at the sudden noise and turned to stare at it, as the snow resolved into a coherant image.

And they all realised how bad the situation was.

 **A/N: Well, at least the wait between this chapter and the last wasn't as long as beforehand, to make up for the long wait. Anyways, R &R as normal please guys. All feedback is greatly appreciated.**


	7. The Legate

**Chapter 7: The Legate**

No-one in the City ever saw it coming.

One second everything was business as normal, and then the next moment every single display screen and holographic display in the entire Tower was suddenly overtaken by a screech of static snow and a crackly screech of feedback – information and guide screens, even the personal displays in the Speaker's study – were affected. Dozens of Guardians, Frames, and other Tower residents paused what they were doing and turned to watch.

In the Hall of Guardians, Zavala and Ikora Ray both flinched back in surprise when the holographic display hovering above their main table was overtaken with a screen of static, but soon the Commander was looking across at a pair of nearby support Frames.

"Find out how they got into our systems. Go!" he ordered sharply, and the two machines nodded stiffly.

Down in the hangar bays, Amanda Holliday glanced up from her spot when she realised that one of the other hangar staff hadn't appeared to hand over the latest cargo manifests, and she looked around with an annoyed scowl on her face, but then that quickly fell when she saw that the numerous screens surrounding her station were showing static, and then quickly resolved into an image that stunned them all into silence.

"What in the hell…?"

Even down in the slums and habitats of the City itself, every kind of screen that one could view images on was suddenly overtaken by a screen of static, and everyone in the vicinity stopped and turned to watch, dozens of men, women and children clustering around every kind and size of screen, whether it be one of the numerous guidance panels for direction or one of the massive screens that hung above public spaces.

In Elena's hospital room, Cayde and the members of Fireteam Onyx stared at the image that greeted them, emblazoned across half of the far wall. They saw what could have been the interior of a Cabal ship, the walls and floor covered in heavy plating, and painted on the back wall was the Planet Crackers emblem, blown up to a much larger scale. Below it were two Centurions in their impressive helmet crests, flanking a third Cabal that was the focus of attention.

He was massive, even larger than the Centurions in the background, perhaps even larger than a Colossus. Its colours were the same as the other Cabal of the Planet Crackers – light blue bodysuit with silver armour – except that its armour was edged in burnished bronze around the shoulders, gauntlets and chestplate, indicating a higher rank. Its helmet was wide and broad, featuring a prominent brow ridge which was patterned with bronze above the glowing visor. Then there were long chains of beads dangling from its helmet gorget and down across its broad chest.

On closer inspection, Logan realised that they were human skulls, yellowed and dried out.

 _Shit._

The giant reached up and clicked something on a small black box affixed to its left shoulder, and then it began to speak in its dull, bellowing language, which was rapidly followed by a squawk of static which lasted for a few seconds, rising and falling in pitch rapidly, and then suddenly it cleared into a rough impersonation of a human voice, deep and flat. There were noticeable pauses between the words, as the technology fought to keep up with the rapid bellowing language.

" _Heed my words…servants of Light,"_ the voice boomed, rapidly becoming clearer as it went on. _"You have shed the blood of my people for too long…and now your blood will be shed for…the glory of…the Empire."_

"It's a translation device," Elena whispered, "like what Variks uses…"

"It's him," Cayde said quietly, "the Legate." On screen, the immense Cabal continued, its bellowing roar translated into halting English.

" _Your cities…your continents…already crumbled to ruin…due to your arrogance. And now…your planet will crumble into dust, naught but glory for the Empire. You think you are safe…behind your walls? You think you are safe…in the shadow of your…Traveller?"_ The way it said the word 'Traveller' suggested some intense disgust towards it.

" _You are not safe…servants of Light. You are just twigs…dust and ash, before the coming…storm. We will tear down your walls…walk over your cold corpses…and execute your guiding Light before your very eyes. Your continued existence…is an insult to our brothers who have fallen on the Red Planet. For the…blood of our brothers, your kind shall be exterminated."_

The camera then abruptly jumped scene, from a view of the colossal Cabal leader to a shot of some cavernous inside area, and it was lined front to back with dozens – perhaps even hundreds – of Cabal Legionnaires and Phalanxes, and each line headed up by an impassive Centurion. In the centre of the gathering were a quartet of Goliath tanks, and the walls of the space were lined with defensive redoubts of the same type seen on Mars. All of the Cabal were in the colours of the Planet Crackers. Then at one, there was a clattering sound as they all performed a bold fist-to-heart gesture in perfect unison.

"Look at them all," whispered Elena.

"We're so screwed," added Griff, pessimistic as could be. Logan remained silent, as the camera view changed to show the Cabal leader, who wasn't finished yet.

" _I am Bas'Arlang…Legate of the Planet Crackers. Three score worlds have fallen before me for the glory of the Empire…and Earth will soon follow."_

And with that, there was a loud crunch of static and the screen gave way to nothing. It was the same all across the Tower and City, as the announcements screens, guidance panels and more abruptly snowed over, and then returned to their original state, almost as though nothing had ever happened.

And then the panic started to set in.

All across the Tower, there was a low murmuring between bands of Guardians clustered in the plaza, in the hangar and beyond. Though the more experienced Guardians were able to keep their heads, it was impossible for the less seasoned ones to follow the example set. Far as a lot of them were concerned, they were going to be wiped out in the immediate future and there was nothing they could do about it.

"Quit your rubber-necking and get back to work!" Amanda Holliday snapped at the other hangar staff, several of them flinching at her raised voice and then scurrying back to their positions, though she could sense the unease that was starting to crush down on them all. In the end, productivity that day had hit an all-time low for the first time in decades.

"Do not be deterred, my young charges," Lord Shaxx reassured the Guardians that clustered in the Crucible Hall, though the Lord himself was feeling the doubt creeping into his heart, and he shared a quick glance with Zavala, who stood in the nearby doorway. The Vanguard Commander slumped his shoulders a little and then walked straight back into the main hall, where Ikora stood beside a pair of Frames that were rapidly trying to trace the signal origin.

"Any luck?" asked Zavala as he came up beside the huddle.

"Commander, we are still tracking, but so far we have determined the signal's location is"-

"It's outside of the inner planets of the Sol system," Ikora interrupted, cutting off the Frame's answer. "That distress call the Sky Burners managed to send from Oryx's Dreadnought was somewhere _much_ further out than that. How could they have come so close in such a short period of time?"

"We can worry about that later," Zavala answered, and then glanced back out of the open doors into the hall to see a small crowd of concerned Guardians approaching, their voices raised in tandem. "Right now we have to calm down the Tower's population."

* * *

Back in Elena-4's hospital suite, Logan turned to look at Cayde in the face and stabbed a finger towards where the offending video had been playing a minute ago. "What the hell was that?" he snapped.

"He said his name," shrugged Cayde-6. "That was Bas'Arlarg, Legate of the Planet Crackers."

"Legate?" asked Elena, though that question was ignored by Logan's next outburst.

"No, I mean what was that, that monster? Because I happened to notice he was wearing a necklace of _skulls,_ Cayde!"

"Yes, he is a monster," Cayde replied levelly, looking at Logan directly. "He's a monster that commands thousands of Cabal fanatics and who's obliterated more planets than we've ever known. And he's a monster who's just challenged us to stop him if we can."

An uneasy silence descended on the room, broken only by the subtle whirs and clicks of Kal's plates forming into a concerned expression, glancing back and forth between the two Hunters.

"How did they even manage to hack our systems like that?" Elena asked eventually, already tapping and swiping through one of her many data slates. "Reports are saying that was just broadcast all across the Tower…and the City. That takes some serious tech to achieve such blanket coverage."

"The people in the City saw that?" asked Griff. "Shit. Bet they're advancing on the Tower right now. They'll want to know what we're doing about this."

"'Shit' indeed," Cayde replied, turning to face the Titan, arms still crossed across his chest. "We barely managed to survive Oryx and his Taken, and now the Planet Crackers and their master are coming to break our doors down."

"What makes you so sure that they're coming here?" asked Griff.

"Because they intend to execute our 'guiding Light'," Cayde responded plainly, and Logan caught on in an instance.

"Of course," he said, walking up to the huge reinforced glass window and tapping his fist against it a few times. In the distance, the ever-present sight of the Traveller loomed over the City below.

"They're coming for the Traveller. They're not just going to wipe us out; they're going to destroy the thing that protects us in the first place. The thing that made us Guardians in the first place."

"Why not?" replied Cayde. "It's one thing to kill us, but if they destroy the Traveller in front of our eyes before finishing us off, that really would be the ultimate kick in the teeth. Plus, it would stop us rebuilding our forces if anyone survives the attack. Though that would be extremely unlikely."

"Well they'll have to get through the rest of us Guardians first," Griff growled, and clenched his fists tightly.

"Easy cowboy," chuckled Cayde. "You're not going anywhere until the docs have given you the thumbs up and the all clear and all that good nonsense. Same goes for you Elena, before you get any ideas," he then quickly added, and Elena's shoulders slumped in reply, though she didn't protest any further. The nanomachines inside of her wound were still just visible.

"And me?" asked Logan tersely.

"Walk with me," Cayde answered. "So we can start to plan for what comes next."

* * *

 **Old London, Earth**

Only one Fireteam of Guardians had no clue about what had just transpired in the City, and that was Fireteam Opal, on the ground in Old London. And they were busy.

The last remaining Legionnaire defending the street barricade bellowed out a defiant war cry and swung its slug rifle up to fire, before a heavy kukri blade slammed into the side of its neck and nearly cleaved straight through. Instead it just slammed over to the ground and issued a death rattle as purple blood pumped out of the wound.

"Clear?" asked Eli curtly.

"Clear," responded the Warlock standing a short distance away, reloading his Galahad-E auto rifle, the robes of his Heliopause armour fluttering in the breeze. He was surrounded by a handful of blasted and desiccated Cabal dead.

Fireteam Opal – deploying into the city at the exact same location as Fireteam Onyx had hours beforehand – had quickly ran into heavy resistance as the Cabal of the Planet Crackers had now revealed themselves to the world and were actively manning barricades and outposts among Old London's tightly-clustered streets. But Opal – a Fireteam which shared Eli's bellicose and close-ranged ethos – had tackled the blockades head on and smashed through several of them entirely, dropping the odd nav beacon as they went. Though they had chosen to stay away from Hyde Park where the snare had been sprung, and had struck out to the North instead, to find some reasonably clear space to drop their beacons.

"Eli," called a female voice over the comms.

"Go ahead," the Hunter replied as he tore his blade free from the Legionnaire's neck.

"There's some kind of parking structure ahead, multi-levelled. The roof would be a good place to drop a beacon."

"Okay, me and Arvo are coming to you," Eli responded, as he flicked some blood off of his blade and sheathed it at his back. Though his kukri was much larger and heavier than the standard knife that most Hunters carried, it more than made up for those shortcomings with its sheer stopping power. One well-aimed blow to the core of a Vex Goblin or Hobgoblin would equal a quick kill, and he had chalked up a _lot_ of those in his career.

The Warlock Exo was called Arvo-16, and he and Eli had worked together for just over a year, just before when Onyx penetrated the Black Garden on Mars. Though his number hinted at his age (equivalent to a human's middle-age) and long service for the Tower even before that. In between these postings he had served faithfully as one of Ikora Rey's Hidden, his experience and knowledge serving the Vanguard well.

Alas, that experience and knowledge came paired with an arrogant and overbearing personality that could drive the most patient Guardians (and Ghosts) to exasperation.

"Cabal are getting off lucky so far," he rasped in his manufactured tones, coming up beside Eli. "We've covered…six blocks so far? And we haven't seen a single Centurion or Clossus yet. We can't get much glory if we're only taking out these Legionnaires and Phalanxes."

"There'll be glory enough for all of us, Arvo," sighed Eli as he took up his sleek pulse rifle, The Messanger, gifted to him by the Disciples of Osiris for completing the Trials. "Come on, stay close. Don't let your guard down."

"Me? Never," replied Arvo with a cocky smirk beneath his helmet, and then he began to jog after Eli as he moved on up the road, towards the tall structure ahead. The location marker for Fireteam Opal's third member was blinking steadily on their motion trackers. The entrance to said structure was littered with the corpses of another Cabal squad, including a pair of Phalanxes with their shields split in half.

"She came this way," Arvo said bluntly, taking the lead, rifle raised as he swept through the darkened interior of the building, Eli going the other way. Inside were the numerous rusted husks of cars and other vehicles, settled right down on rotted tires. There were seven levels in total that showed the same scenes of decay, but no sign of Cabal presence.

Right up on the roof, they found the last member of their group, Sasha. The Titan – in her gleaming Bright Ward armour and clutching her preferred weapon, the pulse rifle known as Red Death – was crouched beside the far end of the roof, half-concealed behind the concrete lip of the roof level. She glanced back at the others for only a brief moment, and then turned back to watching the horizon.

"Look there," she said, pointing into the near distance as Eli and Arvo crouched down on either side of her. Eli took out a small hand-held scope from his belt and held it up, peering down to where Sasha had pointed.

To the north there was a wide expanse of ground that was once covered by a zoo – a place where people would come to view animals kept in artificial representations of their natural habitats, apparently – and beyond that were more and more blocks of low, tightly-built buildings of brick and stone that seemed to stretch for miles. The scale of this city was staggering, even compared to the City that humanity now called home.

"It'll take us weeks to cover all of this ground," Sasha observed bluntly.

"And we don't have weeks," Arvo added. "Even if we dropped in every Guardian from the Tower to scour this city. And all the while the Cabal will be moving towards their final goal."

"I know," Eli sighed and turned away from the view, putting his scope away. "Anyhow, this will make a good spot for a nav beacon, so I'll just drop one here." The others didn't argue against that logic as he reached into his pack and bought out one of the cylindrical objects with a sharp spike on the bottom end, which he thrust down into the tarmac before deploying his Ghost – a model painted plain black – to activate it.

"Do your work, Orrick," Eli said, turning away, and the little dark machine did its work without protest. Its flickering beam accessed the beacon's internal mechanisms, and then it activated with a subtle click, and the steady pulse of the signal is broadcast, hopefully drawing in extra bodies to the fight.

"Done, Elijah," Orrick announced, turning away from his work, still ignorant of the fact that Eli was seldom referred to with his full name now. So Orrick just fluttered back to hover at his master's shoulder, who were all gathered around Arvo now, his own Ghost – Vollo – out and projecting a scratchy image of a video which he had just received. In an instant, Orrick's own memory suddenly received the exact same video file, sent by the Vanguard.

"Is that…?" asked Orrick in wonder.

"The entire City and the Tower just received this video," Arvo explained, glancing up. "The Cabal somehow tapped into our entire communications network and gave us this message. It's a proclamation, a threat, and a reveal…all in one."

"A reveal?" asked Sasha, still watching the video.

"That's Bas'Arlang, Legate of the Planet Crakers," Arvo explained. "Commander of the enemy forces here."

"Legate," Eli said aloud, "not a rank we've seen yet. To think…how huge he must be compared to Valus Tu'Aruc." He had a brief memory flash of the time he, Logan and the others had bested that monster in the belly of his land tank. But that was a long time ago, and this was here and now, and the memory went as quickly as it had come.

"We can worry about that later," Sasha snapped. "Right now we've got a mission, boss."

That was Sasha through and through. She was perhaps even blunter than Eli could be and even ruder than Arvo could be, and yet her combat skills and her discipline as a Defender had saved their asses several times in the past. They knew practically nothing of her history either, not even which Fireteam(s) she had served with before she had come into Opal's fold, and she made it clear that she didn't like to talk about it either. So Eli and Arvo didn't press the issue, content to fight alongside her instead.

"Of course," Eli said, glancing back down towards the distant zoo and the buildings beyond. "We have to prioritise major landmarks and locations, otherwise we'll get too bogged down going through every other building in our way."

"Agreed," Arvo replied quickly. A little too quickly, as it happened.

"How do we achieve that then?" Sasha asked.

"Actually…if I may suggest, Elijah?" Orrick squeaked.

"Go ahead," said Eli, not looking at his Ghost as he spoke.

"The nav beacon's signal seems to be bouncing back off of…something," the Ghost explained, flying up and away a short distance, its white beam scanning as it went. "Something that's emitting a very strong signal of its own. I've seen something similar used in the stealth fields of Fallen Vandals."

"Stealth fields?" asked Arvo. "Interesting. So the Planet Crackers have turned to using the Fallen's own tech against us?"

"Onyx's initial reports said as much," responded Sasha, as though it were obvious. Arvo just shrugged in reply, suggesting that he hadn't even bothered to read those reports in the first place and had just let his comrades fill him in on the way down. As always, Arvo knew better than to rely on Onyx's own information. Arvo knew better than anyone else.

"If you had read the reports Arvo then you would have known that," Vollo suggested in a quiet voice with a female tone, nudging Arvo's shoulder, getting a sharp look in response. "But yes, the Planet Crackers seemed to have cannibalised and used Fallen tech for their own ends, particularly in their 'Feral' Psions."

"…but anyways," interrupted Orrick, still scanning away. "The Cabal are throwing up a _massive_ stealth field to make us think there is nothing out there. But there is."

"What could that be?" asked Sasha.

"Their ships, probably," Arvo answered with a slight smile to his voice. "Because the Planet Crackers must have got planet side somehow: in at least two cruisers, I would say, or several smaller craft. Anything larger than that would have been almost impossible to conceal from the Tower."

"Yeah, seems about right," Eli answered, gazing out across the seemingly intact blocks of north London. They looked far too clean, especially considering the state of the rest of the city. And it could have been an optical illusion, but the closer he looked, he could _swear_ he could make out the tell tale shimmer of a stealth field, in the near distance.

"Okay. Orrick?"

"Yes?"

"Do a scan for us, get the others to help you. See if you can find any points where that signal is coming from…if the Cabal are putting up a stealth field of that size there must be at least a couple of generators nearby powering the overall signal."

"Yes Elijah."

* * *

There was a hell of a noise drifting through the Tower plaza and even down through the Crucible and Vanguard Halls as Cayde lead Logan through the corridors: it was the sound of disbelief and fear, the sound of a large number of people who had just been convinced that their world was about to crushed overnight. The hue was even coming up from the City below, where hundreds of terrified citizens flocked to the Tower's gates. Demanding to know what was being done about this new threat. On the way down, Cayde had filled Logan in on the basic details.

"-the Planet Crackers are the Legion who oversee the destruction of planets the Cabal conquer, after the others kick the doors in and wipe the floor with whatever defenders they come across. But even then they need a Demolition Fleet to actually break through a planet's tough crust and mantle to target the core – the fleet basically use some kind of massive weapon which triggers a serious reaction in the core, enough to tear any planet apart."

"So that distress signal the Sykburners managed to send from Oryx's Dreadnought…"

"-was picked up by the Demolition Fleet. They just got here a hell of a lot faster than we expected them to. And of course Arach Jalall is up on his 'I-told-you-so' horse."

"Of course he is," muttered Logan, recalling the Dead Orbit rep's utilitarian, borderline-nihilistic stance upon Humanity's current situation. But he was still an expert with regards to the Cabal – he was the one who had given the Vanguard the tip on that distress signal being sent out to begin with.

By that point they had reached the main plaza, and they passed by a few knots of gathered Guardians they skirted around the side of a huddle of Guardians who were talking between themselves in urgent tones, and then the pair went around the side of another line of Guardians held back from the Vanguard Hall entrance by a trio of Titans in gleaming plate, weapons already drawn.

"Bas'Arlang isn't on Earth," they heard Ikora say as the two of them approached the main table. Standing on the opposite side was Zavala and Lord Shaxx, and then in the far corner was Arach Jalall, his sharp eyes watching proceedings. "We've worked that much out from tracing the signal of that message. But the advance elements of his Legion are here, and they're likely setting the ground work for their master to come through."

"You mean the Demolition Fleet?" asked Logan as he stepped up beside Logan, which offered him a stern glance from Zavala, Ikora and Skaxx.

"I filled him in on the way down," Cayde answered. "So don't worry. And he needs to know these things for when he goes back out into the field with the others. Because the leader of our most valuable Fireteam needs to be in the"-

"We get the idea, Cayde," growled Zavala, then slumped his shoulders a little and sighed loudly, and glanced back up at Logan. "Apologies, Logan. We've been quite…busy recently."

"I can see," said Logan, glancing back at the gathering in the doorway.

"What did Cayde tell you so far?" asked Ikora. Logan took a breath before he spoke, going over quickly what Cayde had already told him. The Warlock Vanguard nodded sternly as he finished up.

"That's more or less the current situation," she agreed. "Right now Fireteam Opal are on the ground, setting up nav beacons for the rest of you to come through."

"They meeting a lot of resistance?"

"Eli says its 'manageable'," replied Zavala. "They're staying away from the Hyde Park area though, after all the trouble Onyx stirred up from your last visit."

"That's understandable. I'd do the same thing," Logan replied.

"And now we're hearing from them again," a support Frame suddenly announced, manning a console on the opposite side of the hall. "Elijah is telling us they suspect that the Cabal are concealing something on the North side of the city behind a massive Fallen stealth field. They're moving to disable the power generators now so we can discern what the Cabal are hiding from our sight."

"Tell Eli to keep us posted once they've disabled those generators," Zavala ordered, "and I want him to confirm that. We don't know enough yet for Opal to go charging in blindly before we know the Planet Cracker's full capabilities."

"Affirmative," replied the Frame, sending the response.

"But charging in blindly is Opal's favoured tactic," Logan answered sarcastically, "surely you're not going to deny that from them, Commander?" That remark drew a sharp glance from Zavala, but the Commander otherwise didn't rise to that remark. He just listened as the Frame gave an affirmative reply, and then nodded sharply.

"Elijah listening for a change?" Cayde asked rhetorically. "Hallelujah."

"Commander," another Frame called out, "Fireteam Opal are reporting significant Cabal resistance at the site of the first generator. They are engaging now."

"There's little you can do here, Logan," said Ikora Ray suddenly. "Besides, I've heard that your companions are still recovering upstairs."

"It won't take them long to be back," Logan announced, and then he raised his bad arm and pulled off the sling in one smooth motion. Already the black bruises had faded to yellow, and the throbbing flesh had subsided, indicative of a healing process accelerated by a Light infusion. "And I'm good to go as I am. So we can be on standby if they need support."

Cayde-6 chuckled to himself. "That's the spirit, Logan. If only _every_ Guardian had your enthusiasm…"

"Okay, fine Logan," sighed Ikora, "Onyx can remain on standby until needed."

"Thank you," Logan said, and turned and stalked out of the Hall, back to his quarters, to get ready for the next coming fight.


	8. Dagger Strokes

**Chapter 8: Dagger Strokes**

The Centurion had barely managed to shout out its warning before a bolt of fusion energy seared its head clean off, and the body crashed over onto its back.

"Take them!" screamed Eli as he burst out from the shadows he had been hidden in, his rifle blazing away and cutting down three Legionnaires before they had a chance to react. Twenty feet to his left, Sasha was suddenly there too, the Red Death claiming a mighty tally of dead as always.

"Run or die, your choice!" laughed Arvo from the rear position, his fusion rifle firing and burning out the chest cavity of another Legionnaire, and then he hurried forwards to re-join the others. Ahead of them, more Cabal were pouring out of the structure at the end of the street, desperate to defend that field generator that lay inside.

Sasha ran into the middle of the street and suddenly threw her arms out either side of her, dropping the light shield so beloved of the Defender caste of Titans. Slug fire impacted against the flickering shield, and then Arvo and Eli stepped inside, reloaded their weapons, and then dove back out into the fight. Fusion rifle and pulse rifle blazed or chattered, and more Legionnaires fell.

Suddenly, the air to Eli's right shimmered, and something slender and sharp flicked The Messanger out of his grasp, forcing the Hunter to spin away and draw his kukri, as the stealth field fell and he found himself face-to-face with a Psion covered in all manner of straps and bindings, a pronged claws extended from each of its gauntlets. It let out a shrill shriek and rushed in to attack, and Eli batted away its leading claw before stepping inside its guard and smacking the pommel into its face plate. It stumbled, then he promptly drove the blade tip up and through its chest cavity and out its back.

"Watch out, they're close to us!" he shouted as he tore the blade free and spun himself round, swinging the kukri to take the head from a second Feral Psion that had almost got the drop on him from behind.

Sasha caught the wrist of a third one that materialised right in front of her, and snapped the arm with a quick squeeze. Then the Red Death's bayonet was swallowed up by the thing's helmet, and it spasmed once before it slumped down dead. Close by, Arvo was laughing as he finished off the last of the Legionnaire squad, and then before he stopped to reload he turned to face the fourth and final Psion and finished it by ramming both of his fists into its chest, and a thunderburst of Arc energy threw it back twenty feet before it was atomised.

"Nice work," complimented Eli as he sheathed his blade and picked up his rifle. "Keep moving."

* * *

Following a quick trip to the living quarters to change his clothes – Logan was now clad head to toe in his favoured Dustwalker gear that was shaded grey and black in the Old Guard colours – the leader of Fireteam Onyx had now returned to the Tower plaza, where Guardians still gathered, muttering between themselves over the happenings in London. They were all eager to get going, but the Vanguard had prohibited any involvement until Fireteam Opal had finished their mission.

So he stopped by the Gunsmith's stall instead. Banshee-44 – Tower Gunsmith and the oldest Exo that Logan had ever met – glanced up at his approach, his eye lights blinking rapidly, as though trying to remember Logan's name. But that was common with very old Exos, especially one as old as Banshee.

"Guardian, welcome" rasped Banshee-44 as Logan came to a stop in front of him. "…Logan, is it?"

"That's me," smiled Logan. "Glad you remembered me this time." Then before the Gunsmith could ask what he meant by that, he pulled out a blue token from one of his pouches and set it down on the table. "It's Armsday, Banshee. I'm cashing in my order."

"Ah yes," Banshee said, picking up the slip and turning away towards the great stack of shipping crates behind the tables. "I've covered plenty of these today…heard tales that the Cabal are here, on Earth, in London even. Not surprised they chose there."

"What do you mean?" asked Logan. Banshee didn't respond initially as he opened up one crate and peered inside, sorting through the piled weapons inside. Then he glanced back and spoke up again.

"In the Golden Age, Old London expanded dramatically, particularly with advanced technology. In fact, _Watson Cybernetics_ practically had a monopoly on the most cutting-edge fusion weapons tech known to that part of the world. There were even rumours that they had a hand in manufacturing hardwear for Rasputin and the other Warminds."

 _The Warminds!_

"But anyway, that was a very long time ago," Banshee shrugged, and then finally found what he was looking for and pulled out a sleek-looking scout rifle which was painted orange and white, with the stencil SUROUS painted along one side of the barrel in black. "Even before my time."

"You sure about that?" smirked Logan, but Banshee's only response was to set down the rifle and slide it over to Logan, and then take up his default position, hands pressed flat on the table.

"SUROS DIS-43 scout rifle," Banshee announced, indicating the rifle as Logan hefted it up in his hands, testing the weight. "SUROS have used a plasteel alloy to reduce overall weapon weight, so it should be a hell of a lot lighter than the piece you were using before."

 _Sure is,_ thought Logan, bouncing it up and down in his hands.

"…base model has a twelve-round magazine, with a muzzle velocity of…" Banshee paused while his aging neural processors made a quick calculation. "600 meters per second, so close to an entry level sniper rifle. The rifle also features a threat acquisition scanner on its scope, so you can paint a target and have them marked on your motion scanner."

"Thanks," Logan said, as he checked the sights and the scope over. "You've come through again Banshee."

"Oh, don't thank me, thank the people at SUROS," the Gunsmith responded. "Them and the other weapon manufacturers…it all helps the fight." Logan nodded his thanks anyway, then stowed the new rifle away and began to stride back towards the Vanguard Hall. He entered just as an update came in from Opal.

"One generator is down," Cayde told Logan. "But the signal is still up, so they're targeting another. Cabal resistance is getting heavier, plenty of those 'Feral' Psions and a few Colossi as well."

"It was only a matter of time," Logan sighed, just as Eli's voice came over the comms network.

" _There's a Goliath tank guarding the next generator! Engaging now!"_

"Easy pickings," Cayde shrugged. "I mean, you've knocked off quite a few of those in your career, right Logan?"

"Sure have."

There was a brief pause, broken only by the low voices of the other Vanguard leaders and their support staff. Then Logan glanced sideways at Cayde, who looked away. "What?"

"What? Oh, oh nothing…"

"Come on Cayde, what is it?"

"Well…I was just thinking about what happens with the Planet Crackers. They're coming to be coming here sooner or later, no matter how well Opal and Onyx do in Old London," Cayde sighed. "And you know the City's defences won't be enough to hold them off. We barely survived Twilight Gap, and that was only because Shaxx decided to be a hero when it mattered."

They both glanced across to the corner, where the horned figure of Lord Shaxx was gazing out across the wilderness, in quiet conversation with Zavala beside him: both of them old friends and comrades, war heroes. Pupils of the great Lord Saladin.

"Most of the gun batteries either don't work or are too rusted and broken down to work," Cayde continued, "and we don't exactly have a massive store of ammunition for them either. So the Cabal will get into the City before long, and by then"-

"By then we'll rally everyone and drive them out," Logan insisted. "The City survived Twilight Gap, right? Then the City can survive this too, no matter what happens. Long as us Guardians are here to stand and fight."

"I'm glad to hear you say that," Cayde said, turning to Look Logan directly in the eye. About my offer…"

Logan winced. "Cayde, I've already told you…"

"I know, I know, that you'll think about it," Cayde interrupted with a roll of his eyes, "but I won't wait forever, Logan. All I'll say is you need to give me an answer, when this thing with the Planet Crackers is all over and done with. Agreed?"

Logan wasn't sure what to say, as this was the most serious he had seen Cayde become. "Agreed."

"Good," smiled Cayde, and then extended one hand. "Now shake on it." So Logan did, after a moment, then he glanced across the room and briefly caught Zavala's eye. The Commander held it for a moment – no more than half a second – and then glanced away again. Logan couldn't help but feel as though he had been directed into a subtle trap with only the one option out. And the fact that Cayde had chosen to bring it up now only made it worse.

" _Goliath down,"_ said Eli's voice over the comms suddenly. _"Moving to disable generator."_

"I think that's a new record for taking a Goliath tank down," Cayde announced, "what sorcery is this?" No-one responded to that remark though, too focused as they were on watching the feeds.

" _Generator down, moving back to high ground,"_ Eli reported after a few minutes, and then the lines were clear once again.

"What's the good word?" asked a voice from the doorway, and they all turned to watch as Griff strode in, in full Astrolord armour set, helmet held under his left arm. He walked right across to stand beside Logan, and it was only then that he spoke up.

"You okay to be walking around, Griff?"

"Of course," the Titan answered in an instance. "I got my MRI and was cleared by Doctor Chell. I'm good to go."

"Are you certain of that?" asked Ikora Ray, leaning in to join the conversation. "So if I call upstairs to Doctor Chell she can confirm your story." All of a sudden, Griff found the spot of flooring at his feet incredibly interesting and stared down at it intently.

"Griffin"- she started to say.

"Look, we're going to need everyone on this at some point," Griff replied sharply, cutting her off. It was an act that drew surprised stares from nearly everyone else within earshot. "And I'm no good to anyone if I'm cooped up in the infirmary waiting for the all-clear when I know I'm _fine_. And besides, I'm not about to let Logan go rushing off into the fray on his own."

"And what about Elena-3?" asked Zavala. "Was she behind your little escape plan?"

"Oh, of course," Griff replied. "But she's still not 100%, so she offered to watch the feeds for us instead."

Zavala let out a long sigh. "Very well, Griff. You can help out for the moment, but the second that the situation is over you're going straight back to the Doctor and having your necessary treatment."

"Yes, Commander," Griff answered, bowing reverently from the waist, and it was a gesture mirrored by Logan too.

" _Generator down,"_ chimed Eli's voice over the comms suddenly, before the speakers set into the hall were overcome with a screech of static that pricked their ears, but then it quickly cleared. _"Did you feel that?"_

"We did," Cayde-6 called out. "Taking out that generator just created a _massive_ energy spike in your general location, Opal. Losing those generators must have overloaded the signal."

" _We figured as much, chief,"_ answered Arvo over the feed smugly.

" _Get off the line, Arvo!"_ snapped Eli impatiently, and then when he next spoke, the awe in his voice was obvious. _"Oh…uh, we have a very big situation down here."_

"Patch us a feed through," Zavala asked. There was a delay of about a minute or so, likely as Opal got into a suitable position, and then an image crackled into view on the main viewing screen that overlooked the Vanguard hall. Clearly filmed from the perspective of one of Fireteam Opal's Ghosts, it was enough to silence even Cayde-6 for a good minute.

"Oh man," was all he said after a while.

With the stealth field down, they could see that most of North London didn't even exist anymore. Instead the buildings had been almost entirely cleared and in their place was an huge area of flat ground which had been largely surfaced with what amounted to the Cabal's form of tarmac – gunmetal grey and as smooth as could be. And that plating now supported an immense Cabal base, with many of the structures being remarkably similar to those sighted in the red sands of Mars.

But then looming above it all was a Cabal starship – a great massive beast that was as sleek as the small Harvester transports, with great wings which were folded in at the ends, its rear end studded with engines larger than one of the great skyscrapers in Old London. To Logan, he was reminded keenly of the immense ship the Skyburners had crash-landed upon Oryx's dreadnought, except this was one was fully intact. And likely crawling with hundreds of Cabal soldiers.

"How the hell did they land that on this planet without us knowing?" Ikora asked to no-one in particular.

"We can worry about that later," Zavala snapped, even though that list of things to worry about later was growing and growing by the hour. "Right now we need to authorise a Strike against that ship. Now." A silence descended in the Vanguard Hall for a few moments.

"We can do that?" asked Cayde as he glanced sidelong at Ikora.

"We can, and we will," Zavala replied firmly, then glanced at Logan and Griff. "The Cabal have been dictating the rules of engagement in Old London so far, so now we need to get down there and start writing the rules again. I want you two to link up with Fireteam Opal and get inside that ship, cause as much damage as you can."

"Eli won't like that," Griff said.

"Well he will just have to get over it," Zavala answered firmly, "there is a lot more at stake here than his ego. Leave now, Onyx. The details will be forthcoming." The two Guardians offered a reverent bow and then turned and walked out, past the crowd of protesting Guardians.

At the top of the stairs back into the plaza, Griff suddenly stopped for a moment, and blinked a couple times as Logan glanced back at him. "You okay to do this?"

"I'm fine," Griff answered sharply.

"Positive?" asked Logan, turning on the Titan suddenly. "Because where we're going, I don't need you passing out on me"-

"I said I'm fine, Logan," growled Griff, fixing him with his fierce gaze. "Now stop mothering me." And with that, he brushed past Logan as he headed for the hangar bay.

"As you wish," sighed Logan.

* * *

" _I am aware of how unorthodox this is, Onyx. But frankly, the state things are in, I do not care for the rules right now."_

" _Oh my, I never thought I'd hear that from Zavala. Hey, Ikora – how much do you reckon I'm owed for that?"_

" _Thank you for that moment of levity, Cayde. Now moving onto important matters. We've uncovered the Cabal's air field in Old London, and one of their cruisers is still landed there. Though the space it occupies is bound to be heavily guarded, we cannot let this opportunity pass us by. We need to bleed the enemy dry through dagger strokes, and this will mark the first of those strikes. Infiltrate the airfield and cripple that cruiser. And if possible, extract any useable enemy intel you find: we have to be sure of the Planet Cracker's ultimate goals._

" _And Onyx, Opal…be careful."_

* * *

Following very closely to a flight path fed to them by the Ghosts of Fireteam Opal, Logan and Griff soon found themselves transmatted down onto the roof of an old parking structure, and standing with their backs to them were the three members of Opal, observing the scenes below. As the two new arrivals approached, they turned to greet them.

"Logan," said Eli curtly, no warmth there at all.

"Eli," Logan answered with a sharp nod. "Glad to see you all in one piece," he added, but he received no response from Eli.

"You doubted us?" asked Arvo-16, that familiar sneer creeping into his voice.

"No," responded Griff, "there's just a lot of angry Cabal down here, so there was some natural concern that you might have been taken by surprise." Arvo just looked away as Griff then looked across at Sasha. "Sasha."

"Griff," she answered.

"Enough of this," snapped Eli suddenly as he extended his arm and bought his Ghost out. "Orrick, show them the spread."

Without a word the Ghost projected out a hologram of the surrounding area, with their current location showed up as a blinking white dot at the bottom edge. It covered the approach towards the Cabal airfield, right up to the cruiser, which lingered like a bad omen on the horizon.

"The Planet Crackers are actively manning those barricades down there," the Ghost stated as it began to circle the hologram slowly. "So whichever direction we attack from we'll be under heavy fire. And then further in…" Orrick paused to flash up a few blinking dots on the hologram. "…there are several hardpoint bunkers that are bristling with automated defence weapons."

"But there has to be a way to turn those off, right?" asked Griff.

"Naturally," Orrick replied smoothly, highlighting more points upon its hologram projection, close to the bunker defences. "These generators are powering the defences, but of course it means that someone will have to get through a hail of fire to shut them off."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," snapped Eli, and he shut the hologram down with a wave of his hand, and Orrick silently retreated from view. "Okay, so we go down there and through the Cabal's infantry. Straight-forward enough. Then when we come to those automated defences, Sasha and Arvo will keep them distracted, while me, Logan and Griff go and knock out those generators. Unless you're unhappy with that, Logan?"

He glanced across at the Onyx leader at that remark, and behind his mask Logan couldn't help but clench his jaw in annoyance. He didn't have any problems with Eli's plans – he trusted the sullen Hunter as much as anyone else he trusted – but of course Eli had to assume the worst. Ever since that damned Raid against Oryx, things hadn't been the same…

"Back off, Eli," said Griff sternly, taking away Eli's attention off of Logan, but before another word could be said, Logan stepped in between them.

"Enough," he said quietly but firmly. "We're all the same side here, so let's just get this thing done, okay?" Griff said nothing at first, staring over Logan's head at Eli. _"Okay?"_ he repeated to Griff, more firmly.

"Yeah," nodded Griff, and stepped away to check his weapons. Through the whole confrontation Sasha and Arvo had just stood by impassively and watched, though the later was leaning up against the wall, and Logan swore that he was probably smirking beneath his mask.

"Well now that's all dealt with," Arvo said as he pushed himself off the wall, "let's go and kill some Cabal. The first Centurion we see is mine, by the way."

* * *

There wasn't much more to say. After a few minutes of checking their gear and confirming the state of play with the Vanguard, the combined Guardians of Fireteam Onyx and Opal went to war.

Vaulting over the top floor of the parking structure, Eli and Logan drove their knives into the crumbling brickwork and used it to slide themselves down to ground level, while Sasha and Griff just jumped off and landed hard, leaving shallow craters from their own landings, and Arvo drifted down slowly after them, literally hitting the ground running and moving on ahead of the others.

"He runs ahead without us he's going to get himself downed," Logan said to Eli on a private channel. "You need to have a word with him about that before he gets us all into trouble." Eli didn't offer a reply to that, not even a scowl.

Soon enough, they saw the cleared ground ahead with long lines of Cabal defence walls, jutting up out of the soil like teeth. Behind them Logan caught flashes of blue and silver as Legionnaires of the Planet Crackers minutely adjusted their positions as they awaited their targets to draw closer. It was almost as if they knew the Guardians were coming all along. In among the lines, he spied the massive crest of a Centurion.

"Hah! That one's mine!" laughed Arvo, raising his fusion rifle and firing. It went wide, going over the Centurion's near shoulder and scouring a deep black groove into the shield wall it was stood beside.

Then a cry went up and suddenly there was a hail of slug rounds streaming out from the lines.

The Guardians threw themselves down behind any form of cover they could find, including rusted cars, and dug themselves down as low as possible as slug rounds punched straight through steel and rubble. Logan glanced up from the rusted-out sedan he was half-buried in, and he saw Arvo still out in the open, firing a few more shots from his fusion rifle, aiming for the Centurion.

"Arvo!" he screamed. "What the hell are you doing?! Get into some cover!" But Arvo didn't respond, and just stood his ground, even as his shield was now badly straining to stay up.

"It seems Arvo is ignoring you," Kal pointed out helpfully. "He's seems awfully set on killing that Centurion on his own..."

"I noticed," deadpanned Logan, then drew his sniper rifle and aimed, the long barrel protruding from the empty windshield of the car. Panning the scope around, he clicked in on the side of a Legionnaire's head and took it off with a single shot, then quickly moved it around and stove in the face plate of a second Legionnaire with a dead-centre shot. The crack and bark of other weapons indicated that the others were now joining in.

Sasha was suddenly next to Arvo, holding her arms out and dropping a shield of pure Light that deflected any attack directed at it. Slug rounds dissipated harmlessly against it, and even rockets from projection rifles just burst against the shell without harming the Guardians inside. Covered, Arvo took the opportunity to pull out his auto-rifle and opened up on the closest Legionnaires he could see, with Sasha backing him up.

Far to their right, Eli and Griff were standing almost shoulder to shoulder as they opened up on the Planet Crackers that were on their side of the line, but it was more difficult than they expected, as they were staying close within the jagged fortified teeth of their fortifications. After another wasted clip from his rifle, Eli scowled and turned to Griff.

"Boost me," he said bluntly.

"What?" Griff called back, momentarily wrong-footed. A slug round skimmed the corner of his helm and he flinched away.

"I said give me a boost, straight up, high as you can," Eli replied. "I need to get a clear shot over their barriers." As he spoke he stowed his rifle away

"If you insist," shrugged Griff, crouching down and cupping his hands together, their cover being steadily chipped away by more slug fire. "Hope you have a target in mind." Eli didn't respond to that as he ran at Griff, planting one boot on Griff's cupped hands and lifting the other up as Griff threw him up as hard and as high as he could.

On his way up, there was a sudden crack of displaced air as void energy gathered around Eli's left fist and he was suddenly holding a great bow, drawing it back with his other hand as a high-pitched whine built up around him, void power coursing through every fibre of his being. The Cabal down below glanced up and saw this swirling vortex of void energy coming towards them and they raised their weapons to open fire, but it was already too late.

There was a sharp whistle as Eli's bow string let loose, and an arrow of pure void pierced through the chest of the Centurion leading the defence and pinned it to the wall behind it for the briefest of moments before it was disintegrated entirely, and then suddenly tendrils of broiling energy reached out and wrapped around the surrounding Cabal, constricting their movements, pinning them to the spot. There was no more hiding for them now.

Such was the power of the Nightstalkers, who drew upon the impossible power of the Void to lay low their enemies.

With their enemies now suitably trapped, the remainder of Eli's companions opened up, and the first lines of Cabal defenders were put down in seconds. There was no time for rest though as they ran on, threading through the jagged defence walls, over the bodies as they heard the braying of more Cabal closing in.

"Nice work," Griff commented to Eli as the latter jogged past, pulling out his rifle. The only response he got well was a sharp glance and then Eli was moving on again to close with his fellow Guardians. Griff sighed and shook his head, and moved on.

"I told you the Centurion was mine," Arvo announced as Eli approached, sounding like a plaintive child.

"There'll be plenty more for all of us, Arvo," Logan chastised from beside Arvo, reloading his new rifle. As Banshee has promised, it was as accurate as could be. "Just because you didn't shoot that very first we saw. This isn't a damned competition."

"Isn't it?" sneered Arvo. "Onyx is one down today, so what other chance do we have to get some damned recognition." Logan turned on Arvo, ready to cut him down to size.

" _Enough!"_ barked Eli sharply, as slug rounds began to whine overhead. "This isn't the time, Arvo! Save your damned sneering for afterwards! If we're not dead by then."

"Couldn't agree more," said Logan levelly, glaring in Arvo's direction. The Warlock just scoffed inside his own helmet and looked away.

"Whatever."

"More Cabal massing just ahead of us," Sasha announced calmly, reloading her rifle. As she did, her own Ghost – Fenris – was circling her shoulders. The small machine was painted in icy colours, and it seemed to be tagging the incoming Cabal, transmitting their locations to the Guardians locators.

"At least thirty in total," Fenris announced in a dull voice. "Mainly Legionnaires, with a shield wall of phalanxes. Standard fare, really."

"Thanks," responded Griff, holding out his right arm as solar energy began to creep along it. "I'll hit them with the hammer then the rest of you punch through?"

"Do it," Eli nodded. Behind his helm, Griff smirked savagely, and then he clenched his fist and erupted with solar energy, the Hammer of Sol in his hand once more. With a mighty cry he bought his arm back and tossed it towards the moving wall of shields. There was a massive burst of heat that left sun spots in their vision and melted several of the Phalanx shields, and then suddenly Griff was lunging head-on into them, his hammer raised high to smite the first unfortunate that crossed his path.

And soon the Planet Crackers saw the true potential of the City's defenders.

* * *

"Isn't that a sight that just warms your heart?" asked Cayde-6 rhetorically at the Ghost feed showing on the screen, as Griff beat a Centurion to death with his Hammer of Sol, its armour panels giving way easily beneath his incredible strength and the scalding solar energy.

"Yes…quite," Ikora answered watching the other feeds. The combined teams of Opal and Onyx were making good progress, with Eli's sudden flight helping them to break through the first few rows of barricades, and now they were finishing off the last of the second wave of defenders and moving onward towards the automated defences. And then they would have to prove their ability to work together again at that point.

"They can do it, Ikora," Zavala said suddenly at her shoulder, as if reading her thoughts. "They worked together well enough in the past. Many times, in fact. The Garden, the Vault of Glass…and more besides."

"I know that, but after Oryx"-

"-we all know the dangers and the risks associated with that Raid," Zavala replied evenly. "Especially against Oryx, against the armies he commanded and the power he wielded in the Ascendant realm. We've all made sacrifices."

"Yeah, it was just a shame that Eli took it harder than anyone else," Cayde murmured, slouching on the table opposite his fellow Vanguard leaders. Then he promptly ignored their withering looks by gazing up at the main feed again. "Oh, Logan just took off a Legionnaire's head at six hundred paces. He's managed further, but still, good shot."

"Yes, he took it hard. Too hard," Zavala countered, "and now it's threatening to run him into the ground."

"No, I don't think so," Cayde answered, standing up straight and looking straight back at the commander. "It's wearing him down, like a sword being tempered on the anvil. And when he comes out the other side he will be all the stronger for it."

"I hope you're right about that, Cayde."

"Oh, I am. I'm always right. Well, 80% of the time."

* * *

The automated defences that the Planet Crackers had built here were suitably large and destructive, appropriate to the warlike nature of their race. There were great quad-barrelled cannons that emitted thick beams of destructive energy paired up with rocket tubes that discharged heavy munitions like those that were used by Harvester craft, embedded in heavy concrete structures and carving a defence line three hundred yards wide. But that was wide enough.

Sasha's bubble of Light energy rippled and flickered as heavy fire hammered into it, but she stood her ground inside, arms spread wide as Arvo crouched inside the bubble, its power feeding into his own weapons as a fusion rifle cremated Legionnaires as they tried to push forwards to engage the pinned Guardians.

"You had better be nearly there!"Sasha gasped into her comms, the bubble wavering.

"Almost!" Eli called back, as he, Logan and Griff made a mad run for a generator shed about three hundred yards from Sasha's position. "Just hold on for us, Sasha!" The Cabal surrounding the shed opened fire, sending bright red tracers at the rushing Guardians.

"Piece of cake," Griff muttered, dropping down into a baseball slide to let a few shots go over his head before he returned fire, cutting down a Legionnaire as Eli tossed a magnetic grenade that clanged onto the chest plate of a Centurion and then promptly detonated twice to open up its armour and then pulverize the soft flesh inside, while Arvo crisped two more Legionnaires into ash with his fusion rifle.

At that moment, Logan saw the subtle shimmering of thin air that marked a Fallen stealth field, and he tossed his knife at the space. It went spinning end over end and planted itself into the meat of a Feral Psion's shoulder. It shrieked and stumbled back before a shot from Eli tore its head off.

"Watch out, there's bound to be more!" Logan warned, as he pulled his knife free from the body and raised it up as he detected more invisible threats closing in on them.

"Nothing we can't handle," Griff said as he promptly caught one of them by the throat as it disengaged from nowhere and thrust its claws at him. But they just slid harmlessly across his armour and a second later its neck was snapped like a rotten twig and the body cast aside like nothing. Then he got his rifle up and fired off a long burst into the stomach of another that tried its luck.

While Logan and Griff dealt with the Psions, Eli ran straight for the generator shed access, already taking Orrick out so the Ghost could do his work, and soon enough there was the beam of soft white light as the tiny machine hacked into the door systems. Eli glanced back as he saw Logan filet another Psion with his knife, then back at Orrick.

"We're in," the Ghost announced, as the access panel flickered once and then the door slid up to allow Eli access.

But when he rushed in – expecting to see a massive generator that was entwined in thick cables and studded with flickering control panels – he was taken aback at the site of a wasted Psion, shackled into some bizarre contraption, cables feeding into the crown of its skull and leading across to numerous server banks lining the walls. It was thrashing about, screeching as it did.

After only a moment's pause, Eli raised his rifle and fired a single burst into its skull. Blood spattered and severed cables discharged electricity as they flopped to the ground. As the hum of the servers died out abruptly, he heard the voices in his ear.

"Guns are down!" Arvo called out, "we're moving!"

"Arvo, hold your damn position and wait for the rest of us!" Eli shouted back, but he doubted his demand was heard as he stepped out to find Logan and Griff standing over the broken or sliced open corpses of half a dozen Psions, some of them still twitching. "The guns are down."

"We heard," Logan replied, pulling his blade from the chest of a fallen Psion and flicking some purple blood off it. "We should join up with them."

"I'm not an idiot, Logan," Eli snapped, already jogging past to re-join the others. Logan glanced at Griff, who just shrugged his armoured shoulders and then took up his rifle again as he chased after Opal's leader, closely followed by Logan.

They soon found Sasha crouched down behind a mound of earth, still looking drained from keeping her shield up for so long. Arvo was nowhere in sight, but they could hear the purr of a pulse rifle firing rapidly. Eli went straight for Sasha and helped her to stand, though she quickly brushed him off.

"Arvo went on ahead," she explained, even though that much was obvious. "Insisted he wanted to take a Centurion's crest."

"Of course he did," Logan grumbled, urging Griff to follow him with a sideways jerk of his head, and the pair followed the sounds of battle to where Arvo was single-handedly taking on a full squad of Cabal. Angry red streaks of slug tracers whipped by on either side of him, but he stood his ground even as he unloaded his fusion rifle in his eagerness to take his enemy down.

" _Arvo!"_ cried Griff as he suddenly entered the fight, ramming his shoulder into the back of a Legionnaire he came up behind. The massive alien grunted and stumbled, then attempted to hammer a back-handed fist into the Titan's chest, only for its arm to be caught in a vice-like grip and there was a rotten crack as bones were snapped like twigs.

Logan didn't see the beast finished off as he fired off the last few shots in his rifle's magazine to drop a Cabal that had a clear firing angle on Arvo, then he stowed it away and tossed an incendiary grenade that cremated two more Legionnaires in short order. As they flailed to the ground as solar power ate through their armour and flesh, Eli and Sasha appeared and promptly cut down the final few threats.

"Good timing," Arvo noted flatly, as he picked up the broken crest from a fallen Centurion, turning it over and over in his hands. "Though they would break when their Centurion went down, but I guess these ones are made of sterner stuff"-

He was cut off when Logan marched right up to Arvo and slapped the crest out of his hands. It bounced away over the detritus of battle and the Warlock stared at the empty space his hands now clutched, then at the fallen crest, then back at Logan's impassive visor plate. "That was unnecessary."

"You left one of your fellow Guardians in a potentially compromised position," Logan spat. "Do you not understand the term Fireteam, Arvo?"

"Get out of my face," Arvo snarled back. "I don't think you've got the right to lecture me about team work after what happened you hypocrite"-

"The hell did you just say?!" roared Logan as he took a single step forwards, his hand reaching down to the base of his spine.

" _Enough!"_ screamed Eli as he walked up beside them, closely followed by Sasha. "you want to argue about who was in the wrong, save it for after the mission! Now, until then, we've still got a Cabal ship to scuttle!" Then he emphasised by pointing up towards the looming form of the Cabal vessel, which hadn't moved since their assault. But from here, movement could be glimpsed at the boarding ramps that lead into its cavernous hull.

"Cabal are forming up at the bottom of the ramps," called out Griff, his rifle half-raised.

"Then we just go through them, agreed?" Eli stated, looking around at them. Then when nobody suggested otherwise, he took off a long stride which broke into a steady jog eventually. Arvo gave Logan one last hard glare behind his mask before he took off after Eli, followed by Sasha.

"Hey, you okay?" asked Griff as he came up beside Logan. The Hunter just shook his head a couple times, shaking off the sudden rage that had swelled up inside him at Arvo's callous retort. Part of him had wanted to take his knife and plunge it right into Arvo's face, and that made him ashamed. A Guardian should have been above such petty feelings. His grip slowly released the grip on his blade.

"I'm good," he sighed. "Come on, we've a mission to complete."

 **A/N: And I'm back. Sorry for the big delay in between this chapter and the last, but once again real life stuff got in the way of writing. Although now things are somewhat more calmer so I should get a couple more chapters finished before Christmas (I hope).**

 **But anyways, this is just part one of the assault on the Cabal cruiser. If this was in the actual Destiny game then this would have been part of a Strike. Now our intrepid heroes just need to access the actual ship and scuttle it. Simple, right?**

 **Tune in next time to see how they get on. Until then, R & R as normal. All feedback is greatly appreciated. **


	9. Scuttled

**Chapter 9: Scuttled**

The Cabal were being cooked inside of their armour.

Of course, the advanced filters on Logan's mask prevented him from being subjected to such a stench, but he guessed that was what was happening at the moment. Arvo was hovering a couple of feet off the ground – his entire form wreathed in crackling arc energy – arms extended as he discharged said energy into and all around the squad of phalanxes and Legionnaires that held the top of the boarding ramps into the cruiser. The ramp was wide enough for easily a dozen Cabal to walk down, shoulder to shoulder, and now that number of hulking aliens marched down, weapons raised to deny the Guardians entry, even though twice that number in dead lay on the platform below.

But now Arvo had unleashed the power of a Stormbringer, and his energy was coursing through the immense bodies before them, smoke gushing out of their armour joints as they shuddered with under the intense assault. Bones popped and tendons shredded under the assault. Logan's visor was almost entirely filled with crackling blue light that left sunspots on his vision, and one by one the Cabal slammed to the deck plating and seized up.

Once the last Phalanx had fallen, Arvo finally powered down, though the stink of ozone remained in the immediate vicinity as the Warlock landed softly back down on his feet and flexed his arms – smoke still issuing from his gloves – and then reached behind him to take his rifle out.

"Clear," he said bluntly.

"Thanks for that, Arvo," Griff replied as he marched up the ramp to the top, to stand inside of the ship itself. Soon the others joined him and they stood in a tight huddle, on the lookout for anymore incoming Cabal. "So, what now?"

"Bridge," Eli suggested.

"Engines," Logan suggested, at almost exactly the same time, prompting the two Hunters to meet gaze for a few tense seconds.

"Whichever of those we hit is likely to be heavily defended, the Bridge especially," Sasha reasoned. "We could split up and take both at the same time."

"That's too much of a risk," Logan argued. "We're on a Cabal ship and there is Traveller knows how many Legionnaires waiting for us to wander in and get lost. We split ourselves up and we're just making things easier for them. At the very least we should head to the Bridge first and get the schematics for the ship. Any of our Ghosts could do it."

"It is a sound suggestion," added Kal as he materialised suddenly, orbiting around the group. "Even though it's likely this vessel will have a similar layout to the one on Oryx's dreadnought, there could still be some differences that could end with us getting lost."

"Perhaps," Arvo retorted, "but we can't waste too much time in here either before they bring in reinforcements to cut us off. Then we get boxed in and cut to pieces. Unless that's what you secretly want, Logan?"

"Knock it off, Arvo," Sasha said, piping up for the first time for the whole Strike. That prompted Arvo to turn towards her and attempt to offer another snide remark when Eli cut him off again with a curt hand gesture. It seemed the leader of Opal was getting sick of his comrade as well.

"Save it," he said quietly, then looked at Logan and Griff. "We shouldn't be far from the engine decks where we are, so you two get down there and cause as much damage as you can."

"By ourselves?" Griff said in disbelief. "Come on Eli, it's no good unless you're looking for an excuse to get rid of us"-

"I still have nominal command here, Griffin," Eli replied coldly, "so either you do what I ask or you can take it up with the Vanguard." Griff held Eli's gaze for a couple of seconds, then looked away in disgust.

"Fine."

"The rest of us will hit the bridge and get the ship schematics and whatever other intel we can find, then disable as much as we can," Eli continued. "Then we need to take down their main drive core to make sure this damned ship stays where it's moored. Once we have the schematics we'll all hit the core together. Clear?"

"Clear," murmured Griff and Logan, not entirely convinced.

"Okay, get a move on," Eli then said, taking up his rifle and heading down the wide passage. Red warning lights were strobing the walls as they walked, urging the rest of the crew to face the invaders. Once Eli and co had vanished from sight, Logan and Griff both turned away and headed for the engine room.

"You seriously okay with this?" Griff growled. "Eli's sending us to get killed while Fireteam Opal gets all the glory."

"He wouldn't do that," Kal suggested, buzzing around their shoulders. "Eli is a lot of things, but he isn't that callous."

"Isn't he?" chimed a female voice over the link, and Logan started a little at the sudden intrusion into his ear. "We all saw what he was like with the Vex, and that was long before the unpleasantness."

"Oh, hello El," Griff said with mock cheeriness. "Have you been listening in on us this whole time?"

"Only the last five minutes," the Warlock replied. "I had to wait while Doctor Chell checked my fixings before I could tap in. Did I miss much?"

"Only us cutting through a few dozen elite Cabal and some drama between two Fireteams," Griff replied sarcastically, "just another normal day in the life, really."

"Very funny, Griffin," she sighed, "so come on Logan, fill me in."

"Alright, short version is we're on a Cabal cruiser and looking to scuttle it, and rather than stick together as a single unit which would be the sensible approach, Eli has us split up. They're heading for the bridge while we go down to the engines to scuttle them. Soon as they clear the bridge and download the ship schematics we are meeting back up and heading for the main drive core together."

"Seems sound," Elena mused, "but if it were up to me I would have us all stick together, especially since Onyx is down one body."

"Say that again," Griff mumbled as the pair of Guardians rounded the bend and marched on. Standing in a passage that was easily wide enough to let three Cabal walk down shoulder-to-shoulder, the two of them were dwarfed by their surroundings.

"-but in the mean time I can still help you guys out," Elena continued. "Link me in to your Ghosts and I'll be able to keep an eye on your surroundings."

"Already done," chimed Kal, appearing at Logan's shoulder, his lens making subtle clicks and whirrs as he started to transmit his view back up to the City. On the opposite side of the passage, Garl was doing the same as his view finder slowly clicked back and forth, transmitting shots of the alien writing upon the nearby wall.

"Judging by those Cabal runes…the engine room is straight on to the end," Elena helpfully transmitted. "Happy hunting, boys."

"Thanks El," Logan said. "See you soon."

* * *

In the belly of the Cabal cruiser – nestled somewhere in the centre alongside the hangars for their land vehicles – there were two lines or arming chambers, which the Legion used to tool up with before they ventured out into battle. While most of those chambers were now empty – their occupants either already deployed out in Old London or summoned into the ship's corridors by the sirens – one particular chamber, three times the size of the others, still held an occupant.

A lone Cabal crouched in silent repose, before a plain alloy table. Upon that table rested two objects, side by side. The first was a huge blue crest worn by the line commanders of the Planet Crackers, this one snapped off from a shattered helm and somewhat scuffed and scalded by battle damage, while the second was a large, curved knife. It was some seven feet in size, but it was not used by the Cabal in combat. Rather, it was a sign of the Bond.

Oaths of loyalty was one of the central tenants of the Cabal's society. Loyalty to the Empire, loyalty to your commanders, and loyalty to your brothers. Often, particular Cabal commanders would proclaim themselves as Bond Brothers, in order to advance the interests of their Empire, to better crush their common enemies. Those Cabal who became Bond Brothers would use these oversized knives to cut one another's palms, drawing blood which would symbolise their unshakeable loyalty to one another.

But Primus Tor'Lard had failed his brother. He had not been there when the Light's warriors had come, and Ter'Arlg had been slain like some common beast alongside the rest of his unit.

Again, the ship's sirens were blaring. With a deep breath, the hulking figure rose to its full height, setting its helmet upon its head and sealing the clamps. There was the briefest of hisses as the interior of the helm cycled to the conditions of the rest of his suit, then Tor'Lard gathered up his weapons and stomped towards the deck exit point.

His Bond Brother would be avenged with blood.

* * *

" _Seven o'clock!"_

Logan twisted himself around at Elena's barked warning in his ear, and fired a single shot. Twenty yards away, the skull of the Psion that almost had the drop on him blowing apart like ripe fruit. Purple fluid splashed onto the wall plating behind it, then the body hit the floor a half second later. "Thanks," he breathed finally, but he got no response from Elena, too busy watching the feeds for her comrades.

The engine deck turned out to be crawling with Psions – and not the clawed, cloaked feral type that had seen thus far, but the standard version, chittering in their own language as they fired their slug rifles or let off the odd burst of telekinetic force in an attempt to pulverise Logan and Griff where they stood. Already a dozen of them lay dead and blasted on the floor decking as the two Guardians travelled between the huge turbines that dotted the deck, tossing a grenade into the guts of each one.

Each one was rewarded with a crump and a thick pall of smoke that rose from each turbine, as well as angry red warning screens flashing across anything vaguely resembling a control panel. Sometimes the Psions would rush to one of said panels in an effort to try and fix the damage being caused, but that only made them clear targets for the two Guardians.

"Sounds like you two are making a hell of a mess for the Cabal," Elena said suddenly.

"Only the best for our distinguished guests," Griff replied sarcastically, reloading his rifle. "You heard from the others, yet?"

"Nothing so far," Elena sighed. "Either they're still busy or Eli has forgotten to respond to us."

"No surprises there," grumbled Griff, as a slug round collapsed his shield and deflected off of his right shoulder. He grunted and aimed his rifle one-handed, taking off the offending Psion's head with a quick burst. "There seems to be a lot more of them coming in, Logan."

"Noted," Logan replied as he slipped around the side of a nearby Psion and sliced its neck open with his knife. "We'll quit this place in a minute."

"Heads up, there's an incoming transmission," Elena suddenly announced. "Looks like it has Fireteam Opal flags on it."

"About time," growled Griff as his shield cycled back up to full power.

"Logan, Griff, you hear me?" Eli's voice crackled over the comms link.

"Reading you."

"We got the schematics for the cruiser, we're sending them to you now," Eli said tersely, as gunfire cracked in the background. "There's a main service passage marked on – we'll meet you there." Then there was a crackle of static as he cut the link.

"Just like that, eh?" Griff growled as slug fire hammered against the support pillar he was hiding behind.

"Eli sounded rather busy," Kal noted through the comms. "Hold on, I'm pinging you both a destination marker to follow. The sooner we get off this vessel, the better."

"I'll agree with you on that much," Logan grumbled.

* * *

The bridge was a mess.

Tor'Lard stood in the entry threshold into the cavernous space, that had once been decorated with dozens of holographic screens and consoles for the Planet Crackers to direct their operations on this backwater planet. Now it was nothing but a charnel house, littered with the broken and blasted bodies of at least twenty of his brothers, and he could also see the piles of scattered ashes from others that had been disintegrated entirely.

His massive fists clenched around the grips of his weapons, and a tiny shudder of rage trembled through his immense bones. These warriors of Light – they had defiled his ship, his _home_. Their blood would be taken to repay this slur towards the Cabal, towards the Empire. He had not accepted exile, alongside the Legate and his Planet Crackers, to be subjected to such defiance. Their bones would be ground into dust.

Stomping over towards one of the few remaining intact consoles, Tor'Lard pressed some buttons and the screen in front of him lit up with a somewhat grainy video feed originating from somewhere within the bowls of the cruiser, of a long passage lined with piping. He watched for only a couple of seconds until two figures ran onto screen from the bottom of the image, rifles cradled in their arms. One of them wore a long cloak that shielded his lean form from view, while the other was a towering brute in Titan armour.

It was the same one that had slain his Bond Brother. He knew it in an instant.

He was already turning and stomping away from the ruined bridge as the other three intruders appeared on screen from the top side, approaching the other two.

* * *

"Looks like you kicked the hornet's nest, Eli," Logan gasped as the two Fireteams met up again within the main service passage. The blaring sirens and the strobing red emergency lighting across the walls suggested that the ship's whole crew was now be on full alert and would be bearing down on them soon.

"Can't be helped," Eli answered. Behind him, Arvo and Sasha stood with their weapons aimed back down the way they had come. "We got what we needed though. That bridge was a goldmine of enemy intel, and now we just need to get it back to the Vanguard."

"Alright, right about the main drive then?" Griff questioned.

"This passage leads up right to it," Sasha called out over her shoulder. "But we should make a move before the Cabal come back."

"I can get behind that," Logan replied, readying his rifle. "Are we staying together for that, Eli? Because we had a few close calls back there on that engine deck." That remark prompted a quick glance from Eli, and that was all though. Though that glance could have said a thousand words over Eli's barely concealed hostility towards Fireteam Onyx.

"Sure," he said tersely, then glanced towards Griff. "Griff, take the lead with Sasha."

"Aye," was all Griff said in response, as he marched towards the T-junction that had been pointed out briefly beforehand, and he slapped a gauntlet lightly on Sasha's shoulder as he stepped past her, and she fell into step beside him. Arvo rose from his crouch and fell in behind them, leaving Eli and Logan to follow.

"The schematics show us a fairly straight path to the main drive, but there's plenty of arterial routes coming off of the main trunk," Elena chimed in over the link. "So just watch out, guys. There's plenty of places where they could ambush."

"Noted," Arvo replied, not taking his eyes off of the passage in front of them. He turned the first corner they reached and strode on, the others close behind. On their route, they encountered no resistance whatsoever, though the sirens and the lights mounted on the walls continued to blare out their warnings. "Almost there," Eli announced suddenly. Then they turned yet another corner, passed through a pair of massive doors, and found themselves within the room holding the ship's main drive core.

They were stood upon a plated gantry which circled the entire room, its centre featuring what looked like a column of alien alloy, in its very centre was held a spinning globe of something as black as night, pulsing and spinning in place. Snaking trails of blue energy wreathed the globe and the prongs which connected it to the rest of the structure.

"What the hell is that?" asked Griff as they stared in fascination.

"Incredible!" announced Kal, suddenly appearing from nowhere and rushing over towards the strange structure to scan it, even as jellyfish-like tendrils of crackling energy reached out towards the Ghost. He was soon joined by Orrick and Garl, all three of them scanning the control panels that studded the curious construct.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Kal," Logan called out, but it was already too late as the trio of Ghosts scanned away.

"Dark Matter…" noted Orrick absentmindedly. "Incredible. Seems the Cabal have found a way to draw energy for their ships from solidified Dark Matter."

"Considering the amount of Dark Matter they could use," Kal continued, "there's no surprise. Looks as though the Cabal are a lot more advanced than we gave them credit for."

"Yeah, yeah, all well and good," Eli interrupted, "but do you know how we shut it down?"

"Hmmm…perhaps if we overload the core," Garl suggested as he continued scanning. "It would cause the core to unleash its pent-up energy in a single burst. That should be more than enough to destroy the whole vessel. We should be able to bypass the firewall defences and do it from here."

"Alright, do it," Eli nodded.

At that moment, they heard the unmistakable noise of automatic doors from across the way, and they looked up to see a full squad of Cabal come marching in through another entryway, their weapons already bared. The Centurion leading them pointed a thick finger at them and bellowed a command, and there was a bustle of movement as they took aim.

"Orrick, do whatever it is you and your buddies do!" Eli cried as the first slugs began to hammer towards them. "Everyone else, cover those Ghosts!"

"Whatever you say," Griff muttered under his breath as the line of five Guardians opened fire, the different tones of their individual weapons blending together into one major cacophony. Three Legionnaires went down quickly, until the Phalanxes mingled in with the remaining Cabal got their slab-like shields up, stopping the gunfire like hail pattering against a tin roof.

"Beginning overload sequence," Kal chimed over the general comms. "There are a lot of defences here…could take us a while."

"Whatever it takes!" Logan cried as his shield wavered under a particularly punishing hail of slug fire, and he quickly took cover within Sasha's shield bubble to give himself a chance to reload. Inside the projection, he promptly shot off the helmet of a Phalanx firing past its shield. The body spun away and crashed over onto the decking.

Then he heard a muffled noise from behind him, and he spun around as fast as he could manage, only for what looked like part of the wall to suddenly thrust out towards him –

Then something incredibly strong was slamming him, Griff, and Eli off of their feet and sending them sailing down to the floor of the drive room, while Arvo and Sasha were suddenly left reeling back in shock as an immense figure drove in past them and leapt down after the falling Guardians. It was massive, larger than a Colossus.

Griff slammed onto the deck plating shoulder first and rolled over a few times, before he picked himself off the ground with a groan, while Eli and Logan had something of a more graceful landing, landing in something of a combat roll and scrambling up in time as something colossal slammed into the ground behind them and bellowed a challenge at them. All three aimed their weapons at the figure before them.

Another Cabal, probably another Primus, as it almost looked to be the same size of the one that Griff had felled on Onyx's last trip to Old London. It had a massive red crest upon its helmet, and its armour was weathered and edged with gold around its shoulder and knee plates. Unlike the other Primus, this one was armed differently. In its right hand was a slab of material like the shields carried by the Phalanxes, except at least twice the size, its centre studded with nine barrel-like protrusions, while in its left hand was clutched a thick rod with a t-rod at its top end, with some small form of power generator crackling inside.

Logan realised that it was like a sword hilt, though he didn't have the chance to shout out a warning to the others when the Primus swept the weapon around and a wide, slender beam of blazing solar energy erupted from the hilt, extending out a good twelve feet before stopping as its suspension field reached its limit. The shimmering energy almost glowed white, the air around it coated in a constant heat haze.

"Oh shit," Logan managed to get out instead, as the Primus bellowed out a battle cry and swung its solar blade towards the three of them. Its considerable reach and the size of its blade translated into an attack that nearly bisected them all. Logan and Eli both leapt back far enough to dodge the blow – though they still felt the stifling heat wash past their faces – while Griff was about able to drop into a crouch and roll away, looking to get around his behemoth of an opponent's guard.

But the slab-like shield was too imposing of an obstacle to get around. It seemed to fill his entire vision, an unassailable object like a sheer cliff face, and though he was standing in a position where its solar blade couldn't cut at him, Griff himself couldn't get a clear shot past its shield.

Then it slammed the sheet of plate down and the nine protrusions set into its centre roared out. They were slug rifles, drastically cut down to be fitted onto the shield, and the next thing Griff knew he was being slammed to the ground as a hail of nine slug rounds smacked against his shield and practically tore it to shreds.

"Griff!" cried Logan, before he had to duck and roll from the reverse cut from the solar blade, and he opened fire from the floor, but he saw his shots just bounce off the Primus' armour. Beside him, Eli fired his own weapon into the brute's faceplate to get its attention, but it barely seemed to notice as it directed its ire towards Griff.

"What the hell is that?!" asked Arvo from the upper gantry, until a slug round smacked off the wall plating beside his head, and he looked around to see a half dozen Cabal appearing from the opposite access door. He raised his fusion rifle and crisped the head and shoulders from the first one that came towards him, then Sasha joined in and cut two more down.

"How much longer do you need, Kal?" she called out at the three dots that flitted around the central core.

"Three more minutes!" Kal called out, sounding a little pressured as a slug round whined by perilously close to him and the others. "Quicker if you can keep those Cabal's attention away from us!"

"Easier said than done!" called back Eli as he took out one of the Cabal that was posted high up, blowing its helmet into so many smoking pieces of shrapnel before he reloaded and nailed a second through the breastplate while Logan nailed a third with his sniper rifle.

The Primus, meanwhile, seemed entirely focused on Griff. It slammed its searing blade down on the spot where he had been stood seconds before swinging the weapon back around in a wide slice that would have bisected him in an instant, but the Titan ducked and rolled, coming up with something clutched in his right hand.

"You want to do this with blades? Fine!" he yelled, and activated his own sword.

It ignited with a sharp flash of light and the slight crackle of burning ozone, and then he was holding six feet of contained solar energy, even the slightest motion leaving a lingering sun streak. The Infinite Edge – forged using the last remaining shard of Willbreaker, the sword of the Taken King himself – had been gifted to Griff shortly after Onyx and Opal's mission to destroy Oryx himself, and its blazing blade had served them well since, fuelled by both Griff's considerable physical strength and the sorrow that stemmed from that fateful Raid.

As if recognising the challenge, the Primus bellowed one in return in its own language and tried to slam its blade down onto Griff's head, who darted to the side, slashing his blade as he did. The blade carved a deep gouge into the Primus' left greave and it shouted out in surprise, then swung its shield around to try and slam it into Griff's front side, but he hopped away, then again to the side as the mounted slug rifles fired again. A hail of nine rounds hammered against the opposite wall instead, and Griff charged in, scything his blade in.

Logan had given up using his guns as three Legionnaires dropped down to their level. He ducked beneath the stock of a slug rifle as it whistled towards his face, slicing his knife across the exposed lining of the bodysuit's armpit, then drove back and jabbed it into the back of its knee. There was a spurt of purple blood and a muffled cry as it slumped down low, then Logan scrambled up and onto its back, clutching the bottom of its helm and pulling it back as he reached his knife in and under, slicing open its throat, sawing through thick flesh and cartilage.

More blood sprayed from the Legionnaire's throat, as another hulking soldier aimed its slug rifle towards the tiny, bucking figure hanging on for dear life and fired a single shot. But Logan saw it coming and kicked himself back off of the Legionnaire's broad shoulders, and the lone shot struck it right on the gorget, tearing the head off with a flash of flame and a splash of blood. Logan landed with his legs braced as the corpse fell onto its front, and the second Legionnaire aimed to fire again, unperturbed by the friendly fire incident.

Its chest was suddenly caved in by a close-ranged shotgun blast, and Logan saw Eli striding towards it, tearing its left leg off at the knee with a second shot, then jamming the shotgun barrel up against the helmet's chin and firing a third shot that tore its head off.

"Thanks," Logan sent over the comms, but Eli just gave him a quick glance in response, then went off looking for a new target. Logan shook his head slightly and snatched his scout rifle up as he saw more Legionnaires thronging the upper gantries. He shot two down in short order as they pressed in on Sasha and Arvo, but there was always more pressing in to fill the gaps.

"We can't stay here for much longer!" called Arvo, his boldness eroded away by the odds stacked against them. He was sticking close to Sasha now, within the sphere of her Light shield whenever she deployed it. Grenades had pulped and torn apart even more Legionnaires and Phalanxes, but there seemed to be even more of them lining up outside the drive room to file in and overwhelm the intruders.

"Kal! _Kal!_ " screamed Logan. "How much longer?!"

"Half a minute at most!" cried the Ghost as more slug rounds whined past.

"Twenty seconds!" corrected Orrick as he broke through another level of encryption software. "We're nearly there!"

There was a bright flash as two solar blades collided, and Griff was forced back a good twenty feet, his boots sliding across the floor grating. His blade was starting to flicker, its power running low. But the Primus had no such worries, its own blade still glowing bright as it advanced boldly on Griff, lifting its blade high to smash it down.

"Damn it," gasped the Titan as he saw there was little chance of him surviving the next ten seconds unless there was some divine intervention-

" _Griffin!"_

He looked up to see a purple box come tumbling through the air towards him. A heavy ammo synthesis. He saw Logan there with one outstretched arm, the other holding his Black Spindle already. He gave a quick nod and turned away to spray at the incoming Cabal, as Griff snatched the box out of mid-air and crushed it in his fist, and his blade erupted into full power. He swept it up to meet the incoming blade of his opponent.

There was another bright flash of solar energy as the energy blades opposed each other briefly, long enough for the Primus to be wrong-footed, and Griff stepped inside of its guard and slammed his shoulder into its stomach. There was a whoosh of air from the alien's lungs as it stumbled back a small distance, and then Griff sliced his blade up and across its breastplate, driving it back further, just as a voice chimed on the general comms channel.

"It's done!" Kal cried. "Overloading the core now!"

"That's our cue to leave!" Eli cried out, driving his kukri through the armpit of a reeling Phalanx. "We're bugging out! Now!"

"Fine by me!" Sasha called out as she reloaded her rifle and turned away as Arvo pulled out his rocket launcher and fired a single rocket into the thronging Cabal in front of them. Three were killed instantly and three more were tossed from their perch to land with bone-crunching impact onto the decking below. The three Ghosts quickly disengaged from their position and returned to their respective masters as the dark matter core began to throb visibly. Tongues of blue lightning streaked up and down, across the ceiling and the floor.

Griff slammed his blade against the Primus' shield, driving it back a couple feet before he slipped around the side and sliced across the back of its knee, and it went down hard, grunting as it did. Then he was stepping away and sheathing the now-empty grip away, following Eli back up top with Logan close behind, his Black Spindle still blazing away into the Cabal that thronged the drive room.

"It's going critical!" cried Orrick.

"We can see that!" Eli yelled, executing a Centurion with a burst from his rifle. Soon he was up on the top gantry, heading for the back entry. "Chart us a way out, Orrick!"

"Charting!" the little Ghost chimed, and then half a second later, "transmitting now!"

"Let's move!" Arvo was shouting, as the five Guardians were grouping up and pushing out through the far door, past the heaped corpses of the Cabal that had stood in their way. Down below, the Primus bellowed a command at its followers as it hauled itself back onto its feet.

The dark matter core was spinning more rapidly on its axis now. The entire room, hell, the entire deck was shaking from the immense amounts of energy it was starting to build up. The consoles that ringed the room began to overload and explode in a storm of sparks, one after the other. The overhead lights began to flicker and short out.

Back down below, the Primus bellowed another order – a much more urgent tone than before – and activated its jump packs, launching up onto the upper gantry to join its fellow aliens in their rush towards the nearest exit. The warning sirens took on a much more urgent tone and consistency.

* * *

From outside of the Cabal cruiser, there was little to suggest anything was amiss. The Planet Cracker squads out in the city wastes did pick up a panicked burst of comms from the ship in the seconds before it was utterly scuttled, but most of them were nowhere near enough to help.

Then there was a brief flash from the ship's countless viewing windows and portals, and then there was a massive explosion which nearly split the vessel in two, originating from somewhere deep within its belly. Then there was a dull boom which reverberated through the ship and flames gusted out of its boarding ramps, and then the whole thing buckled at its centre point and sagged down low on its landing gears. Thick, black smoke began to issue from its exhaust ports, open ramps and viewing portals.

Watching from the roof of a half-intact building, the members of Fireteam Onyx and Opal watched as the survivors from the ship tumbled down the ramps or out of opened airlocks, their armour blackened by fire damage or smoke. The hulking Primus was among them, still clutching his weapons, and he lashed out or kicked out at the smaller aliens around him as they pulled away from the blazing wreckage that had once been their home and command HQ all in one, forming up into squads, their military doctrine still firmly ingrained.

"Does that count as scuttled?" asked Arvo blankly as he leaned up in one of the roof corners.

"It'll take them a very long time to fix it up, at any rate," Elena mused over the comms.

"Say that again," Logan said aloud. Griff and Sasha remained silent for their part as they checked over their armour and weapons, the former badly scuffed and marked from where slug rounds had kissed across the thick plating, leaving deep burn tracts. In fact, every one of them bore battle damage to their armour and clothing. It hadn't been a walk in the park, at any rate.

"Good work, Guardians," chimed Zavala across the comms suddenly. "What you just did would have been a tall order for most of our forces, considering the odds stacked against you. But as ever, the Guardians of Onyx and Opal stay true in service of the City."

"It's an honour to serve the Vanguard," Logan replied, the usual answer he gave for such praise.

"All in a day's work," Eli added, less modestly.

"No new loot though," Arvo said sadly.

"There will always be more chances for loot," Cayde chided over the line. "Don't worry Arvo, soon you'll be able to loot to your little heart's content." Arvo made some small noise of derision as he stepped away from the edge of the roof.

"Opal, Onyx, come on back," Zavala continued. "Then we can go over the intel recovered from the ship and plan our next move. The Planet Crackers likely won't take this lying down."

"Guess not," Eli said snidely, calling out Orrick. "Transmat us out of here, Orrick."

"Yes, Eli," the Ghost answered, and in a brief moment Eli and his fellow Guardians were gone in a flash of light, another victory won to be added onto their already long line of achievements.


	10. Reprieve

**Chapter 10: Reprieve**

The initial panic which had gripped the Tower and its populace had largely faded away now that the Vanguard had cleared the entry of Fireteams into old London. Though the Planet Crackers still had an iron grip on most of the city, the loss of one of their largest command centres had crippled their ability to coordinate defence against roving bands of Guardians, and the City was soon receiving a flood of new intel from the ground as the Fireteams began to claw back ground and capture enemy strongpoints.

Alas, only the more experienced Guardians were making any leeway in Old London. The less experienced ones were being chewed up and spat out.

"Those poor kids," sighed Cayde in the Vanguard Hall, peering over the holographic depiction of Old London, with flashing green triangles representing known Guardians in the field, and red triangles representing Cabal positions. There were more red triangles than green. A lot more. "They're marching straight into the grinder."

"They're eager to gain the glory," Ikora replied, standing opposite him. "And so they chase the coat-tails of their elders, to try and gain said glory."

"We need to make it clear to them that Old London should be off limits to them until they have more experience," Zavala added, waving off a support Frame seeking his authority on some decision. "They're better off aiding our efforts on other worlds rather than running into the enemy's guns."

"Won't argue with you on that, Zavala," Cayde responded, standing up straight and stretching his arms up above his head. "So…what about that intel Opal and Onyx got from the cruiser? Any leads on that juicy, juicy loot? Even though I am still stuck here on Vanguard duties…"

"Ahem," Ikora said softly, before she pressed some keys on her side of the table and the image changed to that of one which had been recovered from the immense haul of data that had been taken from the cruiser before its scuttling. It showed a topographic representation of a large plain, marked with mountain ranges and a huge structure at the bottom edge. Large red arrows advanced up to the walls that ringed the structure. Then the display flicked to another grainy image that showed a different view of the same approach, this time from the south.

It was showing the area around the City.

"They were planning an assault on the City itself," Zavala said grimly, lowering his chin down into his chest as he kept his arms propped up on the table. "If we hadn't found them when we did, we might still have been completely ignorant of this."

"Traveller's Light," whispered Ikora. "What could we do against that?"

"What can we do?" shrugged Cayde, his tone plain. "We all know that most of the gun batteries stationed on the walls are either rusted, or destroyed thanks to the Fallen and Twilight Gap. And don't get me started on the fact the shell stockpiles are almost non-existent"-

"That's enough, Cayde," Zavala said, cutting Cayde off mid-rant. The Hunter Vanguard made a dismissive noise in his mechanical throat and turned away, pacing away a short distance. "I am aware of the situation with the guns. We still have enough that are workable on the North walls."

"And the shells?" asked Cayde.

"We need to coordinate with Banshee and the other support staff in the Tower," Zavala reasoned. "We need to find a way to forge ammunition for the guns, even if they are just jury-rigged ammunition. We forge enough armour and weapons for our Guardians, we can find a way to supply the gun platforms."

"That's all well and good, Zavala," Cayde answered, "but this isn't a band of scavengers we're facing this time – we're facing a race who were built from the ground-up to wage war, and more importantly, win those wars. You think a thirty-pound shell is going to take down a Cabal Harvester?"

"We have no other choice, Cayde," Ikora interrupted, before Cayde could lose his composure anymore. "We're endured for this long, and we will have to keep enduring. For the Traveller, for Humanity."

"Well," Cayde said, a smile forming on his face, "I hope that doesn't become the epitaph on our mass grave."

* * *

The Memorial Gardens.

Situated on one of the lower levels of the Tower, on the south side so that it got the full benefit of the sun's warmth, the gardens existed purely to serve as a lasting monument to all those Guardians who had come and gone before, those who had made the ultimate sacrifice in the name of defending humanity.

The walls and support pillars were plain white, the floor forged from marble slabs, twisting and turning routes through batches of planted trees that had once covered most of the planet, and thick bunches of vegetation filled the spaces in between. Thick bundles of reeds or bamboo stretched to the ceiling, or brightly coloured buds and tubers in all colours refracted multi-coloured light across the marble floors and fixtures, and flanked the numerous graves.

Though graves was too simple a word to explain the structures which filled the Memorial Gardens in their hundreds. Each one was more of a memorial to a departed Guardian, since the body of each one who was beyond a simple resurrect was often burned as a symbolic show of returning their Light to the Traveller. Each was practically unique, some with a traditional oval shape, others like a Templar's cross, others like a three-leafed clover, and many made of unique materials including marble, sandstone and even onyx in some cases.

One thing they all shared though was the inscription of the fallen Guardian's name, the icon representing what class they followed, and a short inscription attributed to each one when they still lived. Over there, was a polished onyx slab dedicated to the Titan Solun-19, who had fallen a good fifty years before the arrival of Logan on the scene, his short inscription telling of his valiant deeds in the blasted wastes of Old America, driving back the Fallen from the House of Wrath, to let his comrades live to fight another day.

Elsewhere, there was a marble slab dedicated to the Warlock Thessus, telling of his tireless devotion to the scholars of the Archives, and of his desperate rearguard action on the moon to hold back Crota's hordes to allow his fellow Guardians to pull out: all well before Logan's time.

The Hunter ignored them both as he walked to the edge of the level, beneath a great canopy of flowering vines and creepers, overlooking the world outside of the Guardian's somewhat highly insulated home. Here was a fresher row of graves and memorial, each one catching the sun as it travelled across the sky each day – all who looked upon the sight and the view agreed that it was a more than fitting view for the Tower's departed to watch over.

Logan hadn't come down here for a long time, though once upon a time he had done so frequently. He liked to remind himself of those that had come before him, to remind himself of what was at stake…what they all fought for, what they all fought to protect, and the ultimate sacrifice that so many had paid so far. He had a few good friends down here.

He paused at the end of the row, at the most recent memorials. He stopped at the third one in, a polished sandstone item that stood six feet high and had a Hunter's knife inlaid into the surface of the stone, contrasting with the yellowed rock it sat within. Below it was inscribed ten words.

 _We are judged in life for the evil we destroy._

And above the inscription and the blade was a name: Alexa.

Logan sighed and screwed his eyes shut, as the memories rushed back to him.

* * *

 **Eighteen Months ago, Ocean of Storms, the Moon**

" _We've woken the Hive!"_

"Yes, I can see that myself, thank you Kal!" Logan growled as he backed away from the huge doors. The last chained rune vanished, and then the doors began to grind themselves open. A stale stench wafted out, the smell of thick dust and of corridors that hadn't been walked by Guardians in centuries.

Then seconds later came the Thralls. A horde of them – a shrieking, howling living swarm of chitin, razor-sharp claws and needle teeth, their eyeless gaze locking onto Logan with ease, even as the Hunter dropped to one knee and fired his rifle. The first shot popped the fragile skull of the first one in the horde and ripped on through the chest of the one behind it, reducing them both to dust as he continued firing the rest of his clip into the other beasts, cutting a good dozen of them down in short order, and the others split off into the field of broken moon rock.

Behind them came the Acolytes, firing off purple blasts of energy towards the Hunter, who paused long enough to toss a grenade before he ran for a new point of cover. The Incendiary blast crisped three of them to ash in an instant, and the concussive shockwave forced a couple more back. The scout rifle was switched out for a sniper rifle, and Logan promptly put his first shot through the mouth of the first Acolyte he saw, shattering its teeth and punching a massive hole through the back of its skull.

"Reading a lot more movement!" Kal chimed as Logan shot down three more Acolytes before he had to take cover again. More purple bolts pulverised the rock he was crouched behind.

"I get the idea, shut up!" Logan cried, his sniper rifle's new clip half-loaded as a Thrall leaped up onto the rock and lunged down for him, claws outstretched for his throat. He swung the rifle up and cracked the butt into its jaw. It yelped and crashed to a heap on the ground beside him, and a solid stomp to its jaw finished it off. The slight sifting of moon dust under foot bought his attention away again, and this time he pulled his knife out and it slashed through the face of a second Thrall, cutting off its scream and leaving it to fall to the floor as it turned to dust.

More Acolytes were thronging around the temple's entrance now, and floating in behind them came the wasted figure of a Wizard, its tattered robes trailing in its wake. It screamed madly as it unleashed a volley of bolts at Logan, who dived headlong behind another rock, and it shuddered under the impacts. He finished reloading his sniper rifle and swung it up as the Wizard prepared for another barrage, until two quick rifle shots collapsed its shield, and then took the top half of its skull off.

It was already crumbling by the time the other Thralls found him, streaming around and between the rocks to get at him. His knife was drawn again, slicing open the neck of the first one, then driving the blade tip through the ribcage of the second and finishing it off with a quick twist. He had enough room from the third one to toss his blade, and it thudded into the chest of the Thrall, knocking it onto its back with a thud. He took up his scout rifle and reloaded it quickly, zeroing in on the remaining Acolytes who were firing back from cover now.

One of them peeked out a little too far from its cover and found the crown of its skull shot off, then a second one had two huge exit wounds blasted through its spine before it crumbled to dust. The others returned fire, but it was ineffective as Logan ducked down low and shifted position again, so he had a clearer view of the temple entrance. More Acolytes were stationed just outside of the threshold, and he heard the ungodly roar of something huge and powerful from inside. An Ogre, perhaps.

A sudden roar bought his attention back to his immediate surroundings, and a shadow loomed over him as a Knight came right at him, preparing to bring its cleaver down on his head.

Logan cursed foully, knowing that out here, on his own without another Guardian in the vicinity to revive him if the worst came to the worst – he knew in an instant that he had screwed up, that his promising career was set to end out as another pile of crumbling bones up in this lonely crater. He turned his head away –

But the blow never landed as an armoured form rammed into the Knight from the side, wrapping its arms around a thick, carapace-clad waist and driving it back far enough for its cleaver to slam into the dusty ground and missing Logan entirely. The Hunter looked on in stunned disbelief as the armoured Guardian – a Titan in gleaming silver plate – wrestled with a foe twice its size.

"Don't just stand there!" the Titan barked harshly through the general comms channel. "Do something!"

That prompted Logan into action, and from his crouched position he immediately opened fire past the two wrestling combatants, taking the head of an Acolyte trying to flank their position. Three more fell in short order, then Logan's rifle was empty and he pulled his knife free, jamming it through the face of another shrieking Thrall. Then he spun past the clumsy attack of a second one and carved its spine open, then jammed the blade up to the hilt in the ribs of a third one. He twisted and ripped the knife free to let it crumble to dust.

Then he let it fly again, and the spinning blade impacted into the forehead of the Knight. Its neck jerked back and it let out a roar of pain, giving the Titan the opportunity he needed. A quick punch to its left knee crushed the joint like tissue paper, then he snatched a shotgun up from seemingly nowhere, jammed it up under the Knight's chin, and blew its head off.

"Thanks," the Titan managed to say before the next Thralls were incoming, "but right now we've got more pressing matters to worry about!" Then he swept the shotgun around in a wide angle, the heavy stock cracking into the cheek of a Thrall so hard its neck nearly snapped off, and the stock completed its motion to find itself nestled into an armoured shoulder before he fired again, blowing two more Thralls away.

Turning his own attention to the Acolytes that still lingered in the distance – and a second Wizard that had appeared in the last couple of minutes – and trusting his new-found ally to mop up the remaining Thralls that still swarmed at them. Within the space of two minutes, and a lot more noise, the space outside the temple was finally cleared. Logan let out a breath of relief and slammed home a fresh scout rifle clip as the Titan approached, his armoured scuffed and dented from his foes, but otherwise still intact.

"Outside is clear," Kal chimed, "but there's still motion inside the temple. We're not done yet, Logan."

"Thanks," Logan said as the hulking brute – he easily towered over Logan – came to a halt in front of him. "If you hadn't turned up there and then"-

"You'd be a pile of bones like all the others," the Titan finished as he passed back Logan's throwing knife. "I know. I just overhead the transmission over the comms channel and came to have a look. Guess it was a good thing I did."

"Well, thanks all the same," Logan said, before he stowed his rifle away and extending his hand out. "I'm Logan, by the way." The Titan just looked at the extended hand as though he'd just been offered a dead rat. Then after what was threatening to become an awkward silence, he reached out and returned the gesture.

"Griffin," the Titan said, then glanced up towards the temple doors where the roar of an Ogre was heard once again. Then he looked back at Logan and hefted up his shotgun, racking the slide with the signature double crunch sound. "Come on, sounds like the Hive aren't quite done yet."

"Agreed," Logan replied. "We can have a more in-depth talk afterwards."

The pair of them headed for the huge open doors, to put down the remaining Hive monstrosities.

* * *

 **The Tower, the Last City, two hours later…**

Logan had just stepped out from the Vanguard Hall after dropping off the Ghost of the lost Guardian he had been sent to find, and nearly walked head first into a sheer wall of muscle and armour plating that towered over him. He took a step back and began to apologise when he saw he was talking to an Awoken with ashen skin and piercing yellow eyes, his shock of hair black as night.

"Sorry, I guess you didn't recognise me without my helm on," the Awoken said, his voice as clear and even as others of his race.

"Griffin?" Logan replied. "Well…yes, that's right I suppose I didn't. To be fair all Titans look the same when you're armoured up."

Griffin gave a low chuckle. "Perhaps…but not if you look a little closer, Logan. But getting back to the point, you got a couple minutes?"

"Well…I was headed back to the hangar, but I could spare the time," Logan shrugged. "You want to have that proper talk now?"

"If that's okay," Griffin said. "Come on, I know a good place where we won't be interrupted."

"Up here?"

"No. Down there."

Turned out that good place involved a good ten minute walk, out of the Tower and down into the City itself, a place that most Guardians would rarely even step foot into throughout their careers, even though their efforts ultimately protected these people. The City itself was a sprawling metropolis which had steadily built itself up and up to work around the constraints of the immense concrete walls which ringed the entire sprawl. Towers of concrete and plasteel stretched up to the heavens, most of them wreathed in scaffold as the construction continued to drive ever onwards, while down at street level crowds of people – human and Awoken alike – milled about, perusing the markets or on their way to one of the many ammunition and weapon foundries that supported the war effort that went on through the galaxy.

"You been here before?" asked Griffin as they skirted around the edge of another sheltered market, followed by the stares of the merchants and the peddlers, most of whom had never seen a Guardian this close before.

"First time, actually," Logan responded. "I haven't been a Guardian that long, so I'm still getting the hang of how it all works. Been too busy going off on patrols and taking on missions from the Vanguard."

"Ah, I see," Griffin replied. "all well and good, Logan, but you need to slow down every one in a while, otherwise you'll miss everything else going on around you."

"Guess so," Logan murmured as he saw a gang of children watching him intently while sheltering behind the legs of their parents. But he didn't see any more than that as Griffin continued to lead him on, up a spiralling staircase until they came to an open area set with tables and chairs. Like some kind of canteen. It was already half filled with people, who all turned at exactly the same time as the two Guardians entered, giving them a long stare. It was that classic look of sizing up the newcomers to any watering hole, the same it had been for centuries in the wild.

"Don't worry, we're fine here," Griffin insisted as he threaded his way across to a table occupied by a lone, hooded figure, who nevertheless had a good view over the rest of this block of the city. "Though they won't serve us anything, so don't get your hopes up."

"They don't serve Guardians here?" asked Logan, as he still saw plenty of people watching them intently.

"Well, no. Because they can't exactly do much with Glimmer down here, can they?" Griffin responded, as though the answer were obvious. "They have their own currency down here, anyhow." And that was the end of the discussion, as they sat down and the third person at the table pulled their hood down, showing they weren't even a person to begin with.

"Hello," the Exo said in a synthesised female voice. 'Her' body plating was dark blue, contrasted with the bright red of her eyes and mouth, the plates of her skull dotted with dozens of neural studs which were used by Exos to aid their highly advanced thought processes, far beyond that of a basic Frames that supported the Tower residents.

"Hello," Logan said in reply, warily.

"Oh come on, she doesn't bite, Logan," Griffin sniggered. "This is Elena-3, a good friend of mine, and occasional partner out in the field.

"Nice to meet you, Elena-3," Logan said with a light smile.

"Nice to meet you too, Logan," Elena-3 smiled, "but please, just call me Elena. It makes it a lot easier for people then to constantly quote the number 3 at me as well."

"Okay Elena," Logan said, catching on immediately, and she gave an appreciative nod. "So if we can't get served here, then why did we come down?" Logan then asked.

"For the peace, mainly," Elena replied, pointing up in the direction of the Tower. "Away from all the commotion at the Tower. Of course being among our own kind is good and all, but we both like to be down here among the people we're fighting to protect. Helps to put everything into perspective, I think."

Logan didn't offer a response to that as he looked out over the markets below, at the people moving to and fro, haggling for goods, conversing with one another. It was so different to the Tower, where Guardians were always on the move, moving between the different services and meeting with the odd acquaintance before moving on to the next patrol or request from the Vanguard. Guardians barely stopped, as there was so much to do. Down here, the people didn't worry about the war going on above them, only about getting through each day with enough to support themselves and their families. It was admirable, in its own unique way.

"I think I understand what you mean," the Hunter said finally. "The atmosphere down here is different from up on the Tower. Helps to keep the head clear."

"See? Logan gets it," Griffin said with a smirk, prompting Logan to think that Griffin was quite unlike any other Awoken that he had met. He may have had the mysterious look about him, but he seemed far too…human, in the way he acted. "So anyways, down to business," he then announced.

"Okay," Logan said with a nod, "what did you want to ask me?"

"And our guest's down to business too," Elena noted, "good."

"Alright, I guess you've seen the request from the Vanguard about leading a Strike against the House of Devils?"

"Harder not to," Logan replied, and he was telling the truth. He had literally just charted his ship's course for the Moon when he saw the request going out across the wire from the Vanguard to strike a blow against the Fallen's House of Devils, who had infested the Comosdrome in Old Russia and had harassed Tower operations for decades. And by striking against their main base, then it was hoped a decisive blow could be dealt to the aliens.

But clearly Logan had not taken it on, as a Strike needed a Fireteam. And as a Hunter, he was used to the solitude of being a Lone Wolf.

"And you wanted me to join you guys on that Strike?" he said. "I only ask because there's two of you, and after you saved me on the Moon Griffin, you felt that this was a good opportunity to ask me to repay the favour."

"Am I that transparent?" asked Griffin with an exaggerated sigh.

"No, I'm just an excellent judge of character," Logan replied, and then regretting it. He was trying to be sarcastic, though it just came out extremely forced. He glanced away, at the people still watching them intently.

"Don't worry Griff," Elena said, "I'm sure Logan would be willing to help us out. He has very kind eyes."

Logan looked straight at her. "I really don't…but I appreciate the sentiment," he responded, then looked across at Griffin. "So, you still want me in your Fireteam? Even with my eyes of kindness?"

"Yes, we want you in the Fireteam," the Titan nodded. "And don't worry: I've got more than enough cold wrath to go around for all of us." That prompted a chuckle and a wry grin from Logan, perhaps the most emotion that he had openly showed over the last week. He'd been like every other Hunter – so quiet, stoic – a living weapon that accepted it would be out on its own, always.

But perhaps it wasn't always meant to be that way.

"Alright, fine," he said.

"Is that a yes then?" Elena asked.

"It's a yes," Logan nodded. "Why not, because I've been out on my own for far too long. Maybe I need the company."

"Excellent!" Griffin announced loudly as he slapped his palms down on the table, the sound enough to draw more looks from the other patrons in the vicinity. "Looks like we got ourselves a Fireteam finally, El," he then said, grinning at his companion, who just nodded along.

"Glad to aboard, Griffin," Logan said.

"Glad to hear that," Griffin smiled again. "And the 1st rule is: call me Griff."

By the day's end – and a tense battle against an immense Servitor Prime – a new legend was ready to be forged.

* * *

 **Memorial Gardens, Present day…**

"Paying your respects?"

Abruptly pulled out of his reverie, Logan turned away from the memorial to see Elijah standing there, just watching, judging, as he always did. His helmet was gone, leaving Logan to bear the full withering glare of his hard eyes. Those eyes had always been hard, but more recently there had been a chip of ice in them too, whenever the two of them had interacted.

"Of course," Logan replied to Eli's original question, his tone guarded. "You got an exception to that?"

"Not especially," Eli replied tersely, walking across to stand beside a different memorial, a black marbled one dedicated to a Titan who's name that Logan didn't recognise. "But I'm a little concerned that you spend a lot of your time down here, Logan, when we've got a lot more to worry about out there in the wider galaxy. The Planet Crackers could be on the verge of moving against us and you're down here with the departed."

Logan scoffed and looked away for a moment, considering his reply. Then he looked back. "I don't think you can decide when and where I go, Elijah," he began, knowing full well that his companion hated being called by his full name, "and besides, you know at least one person down here that you still miss. Well, maybe it would make it easier if you actually came down here and not stayed as far away as possible, as if that will make things right."

Eli moved – just an instant burst of motion – as he put his weight forward on his left leg and raised his right arm three inches past his shoulder before he suddenly thought better and lowered it again, a flash of shame across his faded features. The two of them stood in silence for a long while, and in that time the only sounds were the steady clanking of the Frames moving around in the distance, tending to the planets.

"Eli," Logan finally said slowly, "you remember what I said I would do if you drew your blade on me again?"

The look in Eli's eyes suggested he remembered all too well. "Sure I do," he said.

"Okay," Logan said slowly, "did you come down here to give me some news or just to antagonise me a little more?"

"The Vanguard wanted me to pass on a message," Eli said, ignoring that obvious jibe. "They've looked over the data we retrieved from the Cabal vessel, and they've got a good idea what the Planet Crackers intention down here was. They had plans drawn up for an assault on the City."

"Attacking the City?" Logan asked, in disbelief. "That would be the first time our enemies tried that since"-

"The Battle of Twilight Gap," Eli finished, "I do know my history as well, Logan."

"Well go on, then."

"-and even if we managed to cripple one of their cruisers there's at least one left unaccounted for. There was a manifest as part of the data, listed two cruisers docked in Old London, so the other one is out there, somewhere else."

"Just waiting for the command to go," Logan reasoned, "great. So we're still in danger, then."

"It would seem so," Eli added, "but the Commander wanted an update on Onyx's status, if you would all be in suitable condition to go on patrol at a moment's notice. The Planet Crackers in Old London are still giving the rest of our forces a run for their money."

"Well here's your update," said a voice form behind, and Griff and Elena suddenly appeared, both of them fully armoured now, though the Titan had an admonished look about him. "A Titan and a Warlock, both ready and willing to serve the City."

"You sure you're okay, El?" Logan asked as he looked over his companion. Last time he had seen her, there had been a gaping hole in her chest.

"I'll live," she replied cheerily. "The nanomachines repaired most my internal circuits, and my exterior plating has been given a temporary fix. Once this is all over I'll need a more permanent check over, but otherwise I can manage for the immediate future. Those Cabal need attending to."

"Good to hear. Hate to think we had to tackle the Cabal head-on without help from my favourite Warlock. And what about our favourite Titan?"

"Don't ask," grumbled Griff, looking away. "Doctor Chell chewed me out for a long time before I got shoved in for my scan. But she cleared me, in the end. And made it clear if I defy her again she'll stick me with enough sedatives to put down a Colossus."

"Well in that case I'll leave you all to it," Eli said bluntly as he turned on his heel and strode off, "there's a lot of work for us still to do. Once you're all done patting each other on the back, that is." They watched him go for a while, then Griff clucked his tongue.

"Still being an ass, I see," he said, shaking his head. "Was he giving you a hard time, Logan?"

"Nothing above the usual," Logan answered.

"I hope that's all it was," Elena added with a shrug of the shoulders. "But looks like we're going to get sent out any minute now. There was a lot of chatter coming through the Vanguard Hall suddenly."

"What kind of chatter?"

"The worst kind," Scarlett announced as she suddenly appeared over Elena's shoulder, her eye plates clicking and whirring into a worried expression. "There's a lot of demands for help, both in Old London and on Mars."

"Mars?" asked Kal as Logan's Ghost formed suddenly. "Why would they need the help on Mars?"

"I don't know yet," Elena answered, "I haven't had a chance to go over it all yet. We were just heading up there, if you want to join us?"

"Yeah, in a minute. Go on, I'll catch you guys up," Logan replied, and Griff just gave a curt nod before he and Elena both turned and strode off. Soon as they were out of sight, Kal swivelled to face Logan.

"Why didn't you tell them about Eli?"

"Tell them what?"

"That he almost drew his knife on you."

"We don't need all the drama, not right now, in the current situation," Logan reasoned, glancing back towards Alexa's memorial. "We've already had more than our fair share of drama."

"If you insist, Logan," Kal said, sadly.

"Come on Kal, we can't keep the others waiting," the Hunter said, and began to head towards the exit, letting his Ghost trail behind him.

 **A/N: Happy New Year everybody!**

 **Hope you enjoyed the new update, sorry for the delay in getting it out.** **So with 2017 now upon us, there's hopefully time for me to get more time to work on The Planet Crackers, as well as some other works on the site. Before I started on the Planet Crackers, I actually was working on a couple of Resident Evil fanfics - the first full story I penned on this site was a Resident Evil story, and it would be nice to be able to get back to them if possible, though I felt I had to take a break with them as finding the inspiration was tough at times. But anyways, as always guys, R & R, as all feedback is appreciated. **


	11. Meat Grinder

**Chapter 11: Meat Grinder**

Onyx stepped into the Vanguard Hall to be met with a wall of bodies, as over a dozen Fireteam leaders had filled the space, clamouring to be heard over the numerous warning sirens that filled the space. Above the main table there shimmered a hologram of a red, cratered world.

"Is that Mars?" asked Logan in disbelief.

"It is," Elena answered. "The Planet Crackers have struck there, too? But how…?"

"Let's find out," Griff said grimly as they began to push their way through the rows of bodies. They received a few annoyed glances, but otherwise they weren't blocked in their efforts to get through to the front. Soon enough, they were stood at the head of the table, a few feet away from Ikora Ray, who was speaking to someone on a comms channel. Her voice was as even as ever, though the speed of her delivery suggested great urgency.

"…we understand the situation…we can't get reinforcements to Mars because of the Cabal's blockade…No, I'm sorry. You need to rally what forces you can still reach and pull them back into the city. I'm aware how tall an order that is, but you have no other choice! Not until we can figure out a way to get support to you."

"Oh hey, you guys picked a hell of a time to come say hello," Cayde announced, leaning across to get Logan's attention. "In fact, I'm convinced you did this on purpose."

"What's going on?" asked Elena, ignoring Cayde's prickly comment.

"The Planet Crackers is what's going on," Cayde replied, indicating the holograph of Mars, and the two large red blinking runes which flanked the planet's orbit. "A pair of Cabal cruisers just dropped out of hyperspace and took up a blockade position in Mars' orbit, and now they're dropping Traveller-knows how many forces down onto the surface."

"Shit," Griff cursed, staring at the display.

"Where the hell did those ships come from?" asked Logan, incredulous.

"They had this destination in mind, clearly," intoned Commander Zavala as he appeared suddenly from beside Ikora. "They're likely an advance unit the Demolition Fleet sent on ahead. They've blockaded Mars and laying a groundwork for the remainder of the Legion when it arrives…at least, that's what we believe so far."

"Then let us get up there!" protested an Exo Warlock loudly, a cry which was taken up by those flanking him. "We'll go and kick these Planet Crackers all the way back to their home planet!"

"Oh, someone's an eager beaver," said Cayde with a sarcastic tone. "No offence, but I don't think any of you know what these Planet Crackers are capable of. Ask Onyx, or Opal in fact. The Planet Crackers are anything above what we've seen of the Cabal so far. You thought the Blind Legion was bad?"

"Who cares about their reputation!" cried a human Titan with a hydra tattoo curling up and around his left temple. "Fireteam Tempest has its own reputation! And I'll take it up there and smash it into the faces of the Planet Crackers until they know to fear every single one of us!" The Guardians flanking him raised their voices in agreement, and soon there was a general clamouring from most of the Guardians.

"Cayde's right," Elena piped up, and several pairs of eyes turned to face her. "A Cabal cruiser has enough firepower on it to wipe out at least fifty of our ships in short order, and there are _two_ up there. The second one of our ships drops out of hyperspace into Mars' orbit and it'll be atomised in seconds. You want to risk getting turned into dust for the slimmest of chances you might get through?"

The Titan glowered back for a long moment, and looked as though he was going to step forwards and shout into her face, but Griff took half a step forwards and blocked his direct approach, and the other Titan turned his attention away from the Warlock. "What are you looking at?"

"An idiot," Griff replied, his face expressionless.

" _Enough!"_ barked Zavala, defusing the tension in an instant, and all eyes turned to face his stern features. "Fighting amongst ourselves will achieve nothing. And while we can't reach Mars to assist our allies for the moment, we can redouble our efforts elsewhere and go from there."

"So you would leave our allies to the mercy of the Cabal?!" demanded an Exo Hunter standing near to the door.

"Any Guardian worth their salt can take care of themselves," Cayde countered. "Fireteams Batou and Lucius are up there, organising the resistance. So they're being lead by people who know how to read a map and how to organise the mass shooting of things in the face. So no, we are not leaving our friends to the mercy of the Cabal. Instead, we will help our friends the best we can by reorganising our efforts elsewhere until we think up a strategy to get by that blockade? Any questions? No? Good."

And that was that. Once again, Cayde had defused a potentially tense situation with just a few sentences. It was the most Logan had heard him say for a while.

"Thank you, Cayde," Ikora Ray added instead, breaking the silence as she bought up the strategic overlay of Old London. "Our forces are starting to gain more of a foothold in the city. The Planet Crackers have taken heavy losses but they're still holding most of the south bank of the Thames, including a lot of the still-intact buildings in the business district of the city."

"So you think there is something there they're defending?" asked Eli, who had entered the hall at some point recently. Logan turned to look at him, and saw Eli's face was tight and drawn, as usual.

"Bingo," announced Cayde, "the man has it in one." Despite the easy smile the Exo displayed, Eli didn't return it.

"We wanted volunteers to lead an assault on the business district," Zavala announced. "The Planet Crackers have a particularly tough defence in the streets around the old headquarters for _Watson Cybernetics,_ a company which had a particular monopoly on Golden Age technologies in that part of the world."

" _Watson Cybernetics,_ whispered Logan to himself.

"So we think the Cabal are after something in there?" asked the Titan who had first spoken beforehand.

"It's likely," Ikora responded as she brought up the holographic display of that part of Old London, a warren of tight streets flanked by numerous, huge, towering skyscrapers of glass and steel. One building in particular was marked out by being almost entirely surrounded by blinking red triangles, showing Cabal positions. "Since they've essentially camped out in front of the building as though it's their second home."

"It just might be," reasoned Logan. "After we scuttled their ship they'd need a new F.O.B. to operate from."

"Our reasoning too," Zavala replied, a remark that prompted a quick sideways glance at Logan from Eli's direction, "which makes a strike against that position even more important for our war efforts there."

"So we battle against the enemy we can reach?" asked the mouthy Titan, "instead of the ones that are poised to wipe out what resistance we have on Mars? I don't think so. We need to get up there and kick those Cabal right where it matters!"

"What part of _it's an order_ do you people not understand?" Cayde snapped testily. "Besides, any travel to Mars' orbit already has a block against it, so don't even try. And if I do find out that any of you tried to fly out there anyway, then I'll make damn sure you're grounded for the foreseeable future."

Another silence descended, most eyes on Cayde following his latest outburst. Seemed as though the stress of the overall situation was getting to him, something the members of Fireteam Onyx never expected to see from Cayde to begin with. Then there was a derided sound that could have been a sigh from Cayde, and his shoulders slumped as the Titan and a few others surrounding him backed away.

"…as we were explaining," Zavala announced, as though nothing had happened to begin with, "we were looking for volunteers to lead a Strike against those headquarters the Cabal are garrisoned around. If there is still some Golden Age tech left behind, we can't let them have the advantage that could grant them."

"But regardless of how many of you go, it's still likely to become a meat grinder," Ikora Rey added, "so only volunteer if you're absolutely sure you want to take the risks. I know we always take a risk when we step outside of the City, but stepping into Old London is even more of a risk now, at least until we have a better idea of what the Planet Crackers are ultimately after."

"We know what they're after, they've come to wipe us out," suggested a Hunter within the crowd, an Exo with bright blue eyes and mouth lighting. "And they've got more than enough bodies, weapons and vehicles to do just that ten times over. Why do they need to dig any other fancy toys up from the past?"

"Because some of those fancy toys could even be beyond what the Cabal themselves possess," Cayde replied. "Anything to give them an edge in their future campaigns. And besides, the Traveller imparted most of its secrets to the people of the Golden Age, and any of our foes would want a piece of the pie…so to speak."

"We've wasted enough time already," Zavala interrupted tersely, looking around the room. "We'll wait to hear any volunteers until the end of the next hour…we hope that we can count on your aid and support once more."

There was a brief silence, save for the noise of Guardians shifting their weight from one foot to another, and then one of them detached from the crown and walked up to the end of the table. It was Eli – and naturally, it was no surprise for Fireteam Opal to throw their cards down for a chance to prove themselves such as this. Besides, a direct assault on a Cabal base was classic Eli behaviour.

Eli put his palm flat on the table, and a holographic rune lit up in the air a few inches above the table, the symbol for Fireteam Opal. A few feet away, Cayde just nodded slowly, and Eli turned and strode out through the crowd. Then a few seconds later, another Guardian stepped forwards and pressed their own palm against the table, lighting a second glowing rune.

"Are we in?" Logan asked, glancing back at the others.

"Of course," Elena nodded. "It would be mad not to have a chance to get down there and take a closer look at some possible Golden Age tech."

"Stupid question," Griff said with a smirk, "of course I'm in. If you are as well, Logan."

"Guess that settles it then," Logan shrugged, approaching the table and pressing his own palm up against the table, lighting Onyx's rune among the orbiting shapes that had already formed there. Cayde caught Logan's eye and just nodded, much as he had done with Eli.

"All Fireteams will receive their mission parameters in due course," Zavala intoned. "In the mean time, stand ready. We will wipe this menace from our world, one way or another."

* * *

 **The City of Freehold, Mars**

" _Pull the line back!"_

" _Where to?! We can't pull back any further!"_

Batou cursed and fired off the last shot from his fusion rifle, burning out the chest cavity of a Legionnaire in the blue and silver armour of the Planet Crackers, but there were more coming in behind it. There was always more.

It had only been an hour since a pair of Cabal cruisers had suddenly translated into Mars' low orbit, and immediately set about throwing down an exclusion zone which made it practically impossible for any of the Fireteams on the planet to leave, or for anyone else to come to their aid. And then those ships had effectively disgorged hundreds of Harvesters, deploying their living cargo planet side. Soon enough, the Guardians suddenly found themselves on the back foot across the entire world.

Those Fireteams who were operating in the farthest reaches of the red sands were never heard from again. Distressingly, Batou's ghost had informed him that the signals from their own Ghosts had gone dead – completely dead. They were gone, now and forever. It had taken Batou a while for all of that to sink in, but the Fireteam leader knew that it was too early to remember the fallen, not while there were still foes out there looking to slaughter them like cattle.

" _Pull back!"_ he screamed once again into his comms link. _"That's a damn order, Pride! You've never disobeyed one before!"_

"Damn it!" cursed a voice in his ear, before the link was cut. Batou paused to reload his rifle and turned away, running deeper into the twisting streets of Freehold, on the heels of his fellow Guardians, some of them being supported by their fellows while their Ghosts frantically worked to bring them back to full fighting capability.

"My Fireteam's down!" cried a voice over the link, "I repeat, my Fireteam is down! It's just me!"

"More Cabal coming through to the West!" another voice cried, belonging to an Awoken, but sounding considerably distressed at that moment. "They're bringing up a Goliath! I repeat, they're bringing in a Goliath!"

"This just gets better and better," growled Batou, slamming himself into cover behind a rusted-out transport truck as slug fire hammered apart the walls on either side of the street. "All Fireteams in the West, focus fire on the Goliath!" A chorus of acknowledgements sang back to him, and he felt a little relieved that the rest of the Fireteams were pulling together under his and Lucius' leads.

Speaking of which-

"Batou? Where are you right now?" asked a quiet voice in his ear.

"Coming back to you, Lucius," Batou answered, switching out his fusion rifle for his machine gun, listening to the heavy footfalls of approaching Cabal. "They're pushing up through here again, plenty of those Planet Cracker bastards." Then he swung out of cover and opened fire with his machine gun, cutting through four Legionnaires and a Centurion before swinging back out of sight to reload.

"Great," deadpanned Lucius. "We got two more Fireteams down here, Ghosts and all."

"Shit. How many still at full fighting strength?"

"Thirteen."

"Unlucky for some," Batou commented blankly.

"Well, not for me it isn't," Lucius responded, before there was the loud crack of a scout rifle firing. "Oh, another one down."

"Hope you've got enough bullets for the rest of them, Lucius," Batou sighed, "because the Cabal are not slowing down anytime soon."

"We'll manage somehow," Lucius replied earnestly. "We have to, don't we? Otherwise the sacrifice of the others will have been in vain."

"Say that again," Batou grumbled. "See you soon."

"Alright."

The link was cut just as a pair of Legionnaires slammed into the ground behind Batou, and the Exo cursed as he hurled himself sideways to avoid their opening hail of slug fire that ripped apart the wall ahead of them, and then he tossed a grenade at their feet and was already running, aware that he couldn't afford to lose too much time fighting every single Cabal he came across. There were simply far too many.

He sprinted along another wide avenue – littered with dozens of Cabal dead – towards the habitat block ahead of him, surrounded on three sides by concrete walls and steep staircases that made it a natural fortress against any enemy, and he saw the muzzle flare of dozens of weapons firing at once. Directly ahead of him, a trio of Titans armed with machine guns swerved out of their cover and aimed down the avenue.

" _Batou, down!"_ bellowed one of them, and the Exo complied, throwing himself flat as the Titans opened fire, sending a literal shower of lead above his head and shoulders and tearing apart the squad of Legionnaires that Batou hadn't seen coming. As their massive corpses were taken apart, the Exo was up and running again, charging full tilt past the Titans and towards the building's entrance. He paused briefly to speak to the nearest Titan, a human who had dropped to one knee to frantically reload his weapon.

"How are you boys doing for ammo?"

"Well, so far," the Titan replied. "Sooner or later we'll need to do another ammo run, out there."

"Well make sure you have someone you trust watching over you," Batou advised, then went on his way again, plunging inside the building and rushing up the stairs to the third level, where a good six full fireteams of Guardians fought back against the Cabal hordes.

He could barely hear himself think up here, over the cacophony of firearms discharging, the clatter of Guardians moving to new positions or moving to aid their comrades, the shouts and screams as they communicated with one another, pushed in tightly within the already claustrophobic conditions like sardines in a tin, fighting and dying shoulder-to-shoulder.

"Colossus to the south-east!" bellowed a Warlock aiming a sniper rifle. "Blind Legion colours!"

 _Wonderful,_ thought Batous grimly. The Planet Crackers were bad enough, but now the remnants of the ravaged Legions that had occupied Mars in the past were starting to rally together and join the attack too. He'd already seen a full squad of Legionnaires from the Dust Giants cut down in one of the outlying areas twenty minutes beforehand, and he was sure the other Legions were massing for an all-out attack, and they would all be crushed.

A sudden hail of tracer fire hammered into the outside of the building, sending dust cascading down from the ceiling, and it was answered by a quartet of sniper rifle-armed Guardians who lined up and emptied their clips in the span of several seconds.

"Colossus down!" barked one of them as he dropped down to reload, just as the Hunter next to him suddenly had his head torn off by a stray slug round. The red tracer just completely destroyed the Guardian's head, and the rest of the body slammed to the floor before one of his comrades was there, holding out a hand to channel his own Light into reforming the body. Batous shook his head and passed by, heading further upstairs.

On the sheltered roof of the building, Lucius was commanding the rest of his own fireteam alongside three others, as they fired rockets and laid down withering hails of machine gun fire down each of the main avenues as the Cabal attempted to advance up each one. To the West, the smouldering wreck of a Goliath lay, with several Planet Cracker Legionnaires pushing up around it.

"A Guardian's work…" muttered Lucius – a tall, thin Awoken dressed in blue and silver Hunter gear – as he raised his sniper rifle and fired, taking off the head of the leading Legionnaire. "…is never done!" he finished with a half-shout, stepping back from the edge of the roof as slug fire streaked back.

"Still keeping that kill tally high, I presume?" Batou asked.

"I try my best," chuckled Lucius, before he stepped away from the rooftop edge and his tone become much more serious. "Are we getting anymore support in from the Tower?"

"None," Batou replied, "they can't risk trying to get through the blockade. A Cabal cruiser has enough firepower mounted on it to turn entire continents to ash. You think any of our ships would make it through a cordon from _two_ of them?"

"Shit," was all Lucius could say to that. "So we're on our own then?"

"Afraid so," Batou replied. "So I guess it's up to us to kick these Planet Crackers to the kerb."

"I like the sound of that," Lucius replied, just as another frantic warning came over the comms.

" _Harvester coming in low, north east! Dust Giant colours!"_

"Wonderful," sighed Batou as he checked the load on his rifle. "At this rate, we're going to be overrun in an hour or two."

"So what? We just give up and let them wipe us out?"

"Of course not! But we have to start thinking of a strategy if it comes to that. And I'm open to ideas."

The whole building shook as a volley of Colossus rockets slammed into the side, raining down dust and chunks of masonry from the ceiling.

"…preferably before we get buried."

* * *

 **Old London, Earth**

What had once formed the business centre of the old capital was just as much in ruin as the rest of the city, except many of these streets had been largely cleared of debris to allow the Planet Crackers to set up a number of checkpoints, bristling with enough weapons and defences to stop al but the most determined of assaults. But there was an assault going on right now, as four full Fireteams had touched down in the old district and promptly caught the attention of what seemed like an entire battalion of Cabal. Now dozens of their corpses littered the ruined streets - alongside the burning wreckage of the odd Goliath tank - while the remainder fought a running battle with the Guardians who had fallen back onto classic guerrilla warfare, old as the hills.

Meanwhile, the two remaining Fireteams were attempting a more direct approach against their target's modest garrison force left behind.

"How many?" whispered Logan into his comms.

"A dozen," Eli whispered back. "Eight Legionnaires and three Phalanxes. Centurion leading them. And Orrick swears it detects the cloaking fields of a few Feral Psions as well. More than enough, I reckon."

"Fun for all the family," muttered Griff.

"Griff, if you don't have anything useful to contribute, get off the line!" Elena hissed from elsewhere.

"Sorry."

"Come on, when do we hit them?" asked an impatient Arvo. "I'm getting cramp over here."

"Soon," Eli insisted. "Now be quiet and still just a while longer."

"We can't wait _too_ long," Eli warned, "not while there are other Guardians out there buying us time."

Up ahead was one of the Planet Cracker checkpoints, though this one had to be the most fortified one they had seen yet, parked right out in front of a towering, half-collapsed pillar of glass and steel, with the sign above the main doors reading _Watson's Cybernetics_. Redoubts a good ten feet tall surrounded the main approach to the entrance, and each side of the streets that lead up to it, manned by the squad of Cabal that Eli had just called out. But there were sure to be many more, just out of sight, ready to move in when alerted.

Hunched in closely in the shadow of a rusted transport vehicle fifty yards away from the nearest Legionnaire, Logan looked up at the half-collapsed ruin. He was amazed that a place like this could exist within this city, after having seen so many crumbling brick buildings, to be standing amid towering peaks of glass was a revelation of a kind. Even though the building for _Watson's Cybernetics_ had been partially destroyed – as though a massive blade had come down and sheared it in two along a diagonal plane – it towered over him like an artificial mountain, almost dwarfing the Vex Citadel on Venus.

"Ready on my mark," Logan whispered to the others eventually, taking a few seconds to note their current locations on his motion tracker.

"Affirmative," Eli responded.

"Loud and clear," Griff noted.

"About damn time," hissed Arvo.

Logan waited for a few more seconds, until the Legionnaire close to him had its back turned.

"Mark."

There was a flash of light, and then suddenly a shot from a fusion rifle punched right through the torso of the Legionnaire standing on the opposite side of the street from Logan, and carried right on through into the chest of the one behind it, dissipated enough to not tear straight through its body, but still hitting with enough force to send it staggering back a good few steps – as Griff stepped from his own hiding spot and drove his fist into the back of the Legionnaire's leg. There was a crack as it went down, then a second blow to the back of its head caved in its helm and dropped it onto its face.

A third Legionnaire on the other side of the street turned to face the source of the sudden noise, raising its slug rifle before the tip of a kukri punched through its throat from behind, spraying out a stream of purple blood, before the three other Cabal standing a short distance away were torn apart by a sudden stream of auto rifle fire as Sasha came crashing out through the glass windows at the front of an abandoned store. At the far end of the street, two more Cabal tried to cry out in alarm, until two shots from Logan's rifle took their heads clean off.

By now, the remaining Cabal were starting to pull themselves close together, the three Phalanxes at the front of this formation to absorb the majority of the incoming fire…right where Elena wanted them. Descending from the third floor of one of the buildings overlooking, she threw out her arm and dropped her Nova Bomb, the broiling void energy bursting in the very centre of the Cabal cluster and annihilating most of them in an instant, save for the Centurion. The leader alien stumbled as the void energy hungrily ate away most of its armour, until Elena landed hard on its chest, driving her void-wreathed fist into its faceplate. There was a sound like a safe door slamming shut, and then the Centurion toppled onto its back.

"Psions!" called out Eli, clutching his kukri in both hands as a Feral Psion dropped its stealth cloak and hacked at him out of nowhere, but the Awoken simply ducked and ran it through with his heavy blade, even as Sasha drilled a second one with a quick burst from the Red Death. Two more rushed towards Logan from different directions, and he fended one off with a quick kick to its stomach then drew his knife and sent the other one stumbling away with a wide slash that opened up its chest and severed one of its loose bindings. As it stumbled, he stepped in quickly and hooked his leg around behind its left ankle and swept it off its feet, driving his knife down into its chest as it fell. The first one tried to attack again, but Griff was there, nearly taking its head clean off with a single punch.

"All clear," Arvo announced casually as he dispatched the fifth and final Psion with a quick burst from his auto rifle.

"It won't stay that way for long," Logan said as he sheathed his knife. "I'm sure the Planet Crackers have more of their troops inside…and on their way."

Without anymore chatter, the six Guardians made a break for the entrance to _Watson Cybernetics_ , past the Cabal remains and their redoubts, into the building's immense foyer, which stretched up above their heads to a vaulted ceiling some sixty feet above them. Inside, any traces of furnishing had been stripped out a long time ago, just leaving a bare marble floor which had been badly scuffed by the passage of dozens of pairs of huge, armoured feet. The Guardians spread out and took up a defensive position as Kal materialised into view.

"Hmmm…if only there had been any of the old equipment left over, I could have dug in and found out where we needed to go," the Ghost lamented with a frown, as he was quickly joined by Garl and Scarlett. "But perhaps the Cabal thought of that and stripped it all out…"

"No, that was probably the Fallen," Eli reasoned. "All the valuables have been picked away cleanly…the Fallen never know when something might be useful."

"Detecting Cabal transmissions in the immediate area," Scarlett suddenly announced to them all. "From…below us? As though they're in a basement level."

"Guess that's where all the good stuff is," Arvo shrugged, checking over his rifle. "Why else would the Cabal be down there?"

"So we need a basement access in that case," Elena mused, drawing her handcannon.

"Already marked one," Garl chimed, hovering over in the far corner of the foyer, his beam scanning some tiny feature against the wall. "The Fallen might have stripped out most of the furnishings, but they missed this comms node for the building…and it still has parts of the building schematics saved in it."

"Nice find," commented Griff as his Ghost vanished in a flash of light, and soon enough they were all following the marker on their trackers, deeper into the cavernous building. The walls were marked with the signs of an ancient battle, and here and there lay the bleached bones of the former occupants who once upon a time worked upon all manner of technological wonders.

"So much lost," Scarlett commented over the comms channel as they passed by labs and workshops, long picked clean by the Fallen. "What a waste."

"It would be an even bigger waste if we don't complete our mission," interjected Eli sharply, before he suddenly checked his motion tracker, a red rune flashing in the top corner. "The sonic lures I left outside have been triggered. Looks like the Cabal know we're inside and they've sent reinforcements."

"Wonderful," Sasha groaned.

"Enemies to the front of us, and enemies behind us?" Arvo asked rhetorically, "sounds like an average day for a Guardian."

"Well I would prefer we don't get hemmed in and slaughtered," Logan replied, slowing down and looking back the way they had just come from. "Griff, Sasha – make a stand and slow them down as long as you can. But the second it starts to look as though they might overrun you, come right back to us."

"Roger," Griff nodded, turning on his heel as Sasha skidded to a halt and retreated a short ways to stand beside him, as the others ran on ahead. They glanced at each other briefly, then back down the corridor.

"We go back to those workshops, we can hit them from both sides at the same time," Sasha suggested, "catch them on the back foot to begin with, then go from there?"

"Sounds good to me," Griff smiled beneath his helm, racking his shotgun for emphasis. Then he put himself in the space between the corner of an open door with his shotgun aimed out down the passage, keeping most of his body shielded from return fire. Already he could hear the thuds and dull roars from close by as the Cabal entered the building.

Meanwhile, their comrades had just emerged out into an open concrete lot at the side of the building, only for Cabal slugs to start streaking right past their ears and hammering through the walls beside them. Across the opposite side of the lot, a couple dozen Planet Cracker Cabal – lead by a Centurion – had already prepared their defences, snapping off shots from behind redoubts or around the shields of Phalanxes.

In an instant, the Guardians scattered and dove for cover behind the nearest solid objects, even as slugs threatened to pick apart said cover in an instant. Logan settled himself down and laid out his sniper rifle's barrel so that he had a fairly clear view of the battlefield, while Arvo and Eli roved on ahead to tackle the Cabal head on, as expected. Elena just moved to the side, her handcannon already booming as it tore the head off of a Legionnaire that had become a little separated from its fellows. They all saw the bloom of purple mist, and the remainder pulled in closer together. Another that was a little too slow was punched back off of its feet, its chest crated by handcannon shells.

"Just as planned," Logan muttered to himself, his first shot tearing off the head of the central Phalanx, despite the fact it was almost entirely hidden behind its slab-like shield. As it crashed over onto its back, its shield dropped away, exposing the others. As their Centurion bleated out some frantic orders, Arvo was already firing, knocking two Legionnaires down and winging one of the other Phalanxes before Logan took its head off, already scanning for a new target as the remaining Cabal split themselves up and retreated a short distance into their defences, daring the Guardians to follow them onto their home ground.

"I think they're trying to draw us out," Kal reasoned, appearing at Logan's shoulder.

"Thanks for the insight," Logan growled, firing another shot that slammed a Legionnaire over onto its back, before Eli was suddenly within shotgun range and took out another Legionnaire's legs with a pair of quick blasts, then pulled his kukri free and opened another's windpipe with a one-handed slash. Then Elena was there, blowing apart another Cabal's skull with a point-blank shot, then lashing out with an open left palm, smashing away a Feral Psion that Logan hadn't even noticed yet.

" _Logan, left!"_

At Kal's frantic warning, Logan looked around in time to see the shimmering shape approach, before his hand went down and ripped one of his throwing knives free, tossing it end-over-end into the face of the Feral Psion. It went down in a tangle of flailing arms and lethal claws. "Thanks for the warning, Kal," Logan then added, as an afterthought.

"You're welcome."

On the opposite side of the battlefield, the Centurion had retreated far enough to bellow some command, and in an instant the heavy blast doors near to where he stood began to grind open. And then they heard heavy footfalls – heavier than normal with the Cabal at least – and then there was the massive silhouettes of a pair of Colossi stomped forth, their weapons already starting to wind up.

" _Get down!"_ Elena screamed over the comms link, just as the brutes opened fire, their tracer fire essentially demolishing everything that was in their way: vehicle wreckage, defensive shields, and even other Cabal. A handful of Legionnaires and a Phalanx were essentially atomised as their fellow aliens opened up full force. Logan tried to bury himself as low as possible in his own cover as a pair of white-hot streams of lead tore through the air above him. It was a miracle they weren't all downed in an instant.

Cursing their luck, Logan pulled out his knife and summoned the arc energy that boiled deep within his core, hoping that at least one of the others had enough to bring their own super into the field, as he didn't particularly fancy taking on two Colossi on his own, even with his arc blade.

As the air around Logan ionised, he charged out into the open, becoming a blaze of white light as he suddenly shifted his position, slicing open the Legionnaire he ended up beside, then spinning past a hail of slug fire that seemed to fly unnaturally slow and driving straight through the Centurion as it stood before him, splitting open its armour like a sheet of foil and cooking the flesh inside. Then he was rushing on, straight at the nearest Colossus.

It roared and raised one leg to perform a crushing stomp, but Logan was already flying past, his knife slicing open its other leg, and it howled as it suddenly stumbled, crashing to the ground, then Logan's knife punched through the top of its helmet, its body wracked with painful spasms as it was cooked from the inside out. Logan ripped his knife free and danced away as the second Colossus swung around to target him.

Then a Nova Bomb slammed into the centre of its chest and the roaring void energy nearly slammed it clean off of its feet, badly scorching its armour. As it stumbled, it was suddenly hit with a hail of pulse rifle and auto rifle fire into its helmet, badly warping the metal and then finally popping its skull like a cherry. Purple sprayed across the wall behind it, as Logan glanced back at Arvo and Eli, standing side by side, their weapons smoking.

"You're welcome," Arvo called out, already turning away to deal with the remaining Cabal in the area.

 _Guess I should have more faith,_ Logan thought to himself.

 **A/N: Wow, so sorry for the huge delay on this chapter, but as you might expect, real life got in the way again. But with any luck I can get back into a slightly more regular update schedule.**

 **Also, perhaps the biggest news since my last update is that Destiny 2 has been announced (so much for the 10 year plan on the original Destiny), and it looks to have a similar theme to the Planet Crackers in which the Cabal - specifically the Red Legion - are attacking the City, which is a bit of a funny coincidence I feel, so it's unconfirmed whether that news will affect how the rest of this story unfolds...I might just end up tossing what I had originally planned into the trash, but there's still time. Anyways, R & R as normal please, all feedback is appreciated. **


	12. Guerrilla Tactics

**Chapter 12: Guerrilla Tactics**

 _ **Watson Cybernetics HQ, Old London, Earth**_

The Invective tore the head off the Feral Psion as it lunged for Griff out of thin air, and it was promptly slammed back against the wall behind it, leaving a sticky purple smear as it slid to the floor, minus its skull.

"Damn!" he cursed, reloading the shotgun frantically as he backed away around the doorway corner, even if most of the wall around it had been torn apart by rapid slug fire. On the opposite side of the corridor, Sasha unloaded the Red Death into the press of bodies that was storming towards them, shredding armour and flesh, but it was clear they couldn't stay there for much longer.

"We need to pull back!" urged Garl as he orbited Griff's shoulders, a slight tinge of panic creeping into the little machine's voice. "We're going to be cut off otherwise!"

"Point taken!" Griff yelled back, then he cried out to Sasha, "we're moving, Sasha! Drop us a bubble and let's go!" She didn't respond initially, or show any sign of complying with his orders as she just reloaded her rifle and continued firing at the Cabal crushing their way up the passage.

" _Sasha!"_

"I heard!" she snapped back, spinning away from her own position as a trio of slug rounds punched right through the wall at head height, and she extended her arms out, dropping her sparkling bubble shield. Slug rounds hammered against its surface and were stopped dead. The two Titans took the opportunity to unload on the nearest Cabal, then promptly turned and fell back towards their comrades.

"Logan, we're coming to you!" Griff barked into the comms link, not caring if he didn't get a response or not. He reached a set of double doors and promptly rammed his shoulder into them without slowing down, smashing them both out of their frames and barging on into a huge open lot littered with the bodies of numerous Cabal.

"Over here!" cried Eli, standing at the top of what looked to be a wide concrete stairway down out of sight. They both ran right for him, as he opened fire over the shoulders as a Legionnaire tried to force its way through the narrow doorway in pursuit. As its headless corpse fell back out of view, a Phalanx took over, easily forcing its way through with its shield, tearing away steel wall panels and grinding away concrete so that its fellow Cabal could make an entrance.

Sasha tossed a grenade back at them, a long-ranged lob that bounced once and then went off at waist height, downing a couple of Cabal instantly. The others were pelted with a hail of lead from Griff's rifle, then all three of them were taking a stand beside one another, barring entry down the wide stairwell that had been secured by the others just beforehand.

"We have a door!" exclaimed Elena as she stood before a particularly heavy-looking reinforced portal that was a good twelve feet across both ways. And judging by the numerous tool marks and gouges that peppered its surface, it was one that had remained well and truly shut to the Cabal engineers who had attempted to gain entry.

"A locked door," growled Griff, looking back over his shoulder, listening to the roars of incoming Cabal. "Hope that can be changed very soon!"

"We're already working on it," announced Kal as his little beam scanned the panel beside the door, "but the encryption on this thing is ridiculous! They definitely wanted to keep everyone out!"

"Try this," Garl announced calmly, as it hovered up beside Kal and began to project his own beam. There might be a few code fragments that will help us in this security programme I downloaded earlier on."

"Actually…this might help us a little," Kal admitted, as Scarlett joined in their efforts. "We just need a little more time, Guardians!"

"Oh, that's fine!" Griff yelled back, reloading his rifle as slug rounds whined past. "We only have what looks like an entire battalion of pissed off Cabal to deal with!" As if to prove his point, the slug fire suddenly increased in intensity, as a Colossus began to drive itself through a space half its size in its eagerness to get at the Guardians. Eli said nothing, as – calm as ever – he drilled a nearby Legionnaire through the forehead, then switched aim to a Phalanx that had left its flank exposed. Soon, that too slammed to the ground.

"Patience is a virtue," Kal said in a sing-song manner, "especially when you're hacking into the secret basement of a technology firm that could contain Traveller-only-knows."

"Just shut up and get some results, Kal!" Logan warned, as he rushed up the stairs to aid in the defence, the arc energy already crackling along his arms as he readied his Super. But then, there was no need suddenly.

The doors suddenly groaned, as they began to swing in on themselves, the thick bars that once held them shut retracting one by one. The three Ghosts retreated as quickly as they dared, while Arvo and Elena stared up in awe. "Uh…what did you do?" Elena asked eventually.

"Nothing!" Scarlett insisted. "We were battling that security code, and then suddenly…it just went!"

"Went? Went where?!" demanded Arvo impatiently, staring up the stairway as he could see tracer fire starting to fly past.

"Went into wherever computer code goes when it's purged!" Garl replied. "The door is letting us in!"

"Why the hell would it be doing that?!" Arvo demanded.

"Who cares? Everyone inside!" Logan bellowed, as the massive doors opened wide enough for them to step inside, single file, and he moved to stand just before the breach.

"What? In there?" asked Arvo, "and what if it turns out to be a trap and we boxed in and massacred?"

"Would you rather stay out here? With all that?" Elena retorted, pointing back up the stairway, where Griff, Sasha and Eli were starting to be forced back by sheer weight of fire, their shields flickering badly.

"Alright, fine. Let's go then!"

"We're going inside, everyone!" Logan yelled over the comms link, and he finally stepped inside of the yawning doorway, into almost pitch darkness. He was quickly followed by Arvo, but Elena hung back just outside the doorway, waiting for her companions to follow. Griff and Sasha let off one last thunderous volley from their weapons as Eli made a run for it, and then a couple of seconds later the two Titans followed, chased the whole way by slug fire. They were about ten yards out when Elena saw the faint shimmer of a stealth field, and bought her handcannon up. Its booming retort highlighted the Feral Psion that launched itself lengthways down the stairs with its claws out, only for its head to get blasted off. The corpse thudded back onto the stairs as the other Guardians vanished inside.

Then, the doors began to slide themselves shut again, with a terrible groaning of steel.

"They're closing too slowly," Griff said, grabbing for his shotgun again, "we're gonna get caught!"

"No…wait," Kal said suddenly, his little eye lighting up as he cast his beam around the immediate vicinity. "I'm detecting a sudden surge of power directed into…automated defences? Just outside the doorway?"

"Defences?" asked Eli, "which means they weren't active when we came along…so why are they coming on now?"

"Who cares," Sasha replied, "long as they're not aiming at us, that's the main thing."

"I concur," Arvo replied, "we can figure out the exact reasoning later…if we live that long."

Soon enough all six of them were lined up inside of the door threshold, as they saw the massive silhouettes of the Cabal starting to emerge at the top of the entry stairs, and they tightened their grips on their weapons. The Feral Psions were first, trailing ahead of a knot of Legionnaires, and a Colossus standing tall over all of them, spinning up the barrels of its heavy weapon. The Guardians pressed themselves closer against the walls of the passage they were stood in, to avoid making themselves an obvious target.

And then it all changed in an instant. Emanating from somewhere within the wall around the doors themselves, were discharged lasers of energy so bright that it almost burned out the autosenses on their helmet visors, and forced them to look away. The effects were instantaneous: the Psions collapsed to the floor with their ribcages seared clean out, and then the Legionnaires were then crumpling into a tangled heap of limbs and scorched armour with barely a sound. And then the Colossus was targeted by at least half a dozen of these white lasers, and even it too was crashing down, its chest and head lanced by white-hot beams.

"What the hell…?" gasped Arvo as they watched it all unfold. "That laser tech…it's like nothing I've ever seen."

"Me neither," replied Elena, as the Colossus's massive body crashed to the ground, and the doors finally slammed shut fully, leaving them all in the dark, accompanied by the heavy thuds and clicks of several locks and tumblers the size of grapefruit sliding into place.

"Everyone okay?" Logan asked, and he got a string of affirmatives back. Then he slowly turned through one eighty degrees, peering into the inky blackness that stretched away before them, into the depths. Kal, Garl and Scarlett were awake and active, scanning their beams into the darkness, but it revealed little save for steel wall panelling and floor grates.

And then the lights came on suddenly, bathing them all in a clean, white light that was disturbingly like that of the laser defences which had just dropped a squad of Cabal like they were nothing. Thankfully, they didn't find themselves suddenly crisped. There was a light rustle of motion as they all raised their weapons in case a threat showed itself, but they remained in one piece.

"The hell is this?" muttered Eli as he slowly lowered his rifle, but he kept the right amount of grip on it so he could bring it up in an instant if required.

"Looks like we were expected," Elena reasoned.

"Expected by what, though?" Arvo replied. "Anything that isn't Fallen or Cabal hasn't lived in this armpit of a city for years. So who the hell could be left?"

"Or what, rather?" Logan asked in reply, as he began to take in the features of the passageway, such as the triangular-shaped archways he could see in the near distance, and the style of the cabling and the pipes that threaded along the walls and ceilings in places.

"What are you thinking, Logan?" Griff asked.

"I'm thinking this place looks a little familiar…don't you think?" Logan responded, looking back at them.

"It…it looks like Rasputin's bunker underneath Old Russia," Arvo said finally, even the normally vocal Warlock nearly struck mute. "Doesn't it?"

"It does," Elena agreed with a quick nod, "but…we all thought Rasputin was the only Warmind left."

"Alright, then what's supplying the power to this place?" asked Griff, turning on her. "The power for the doors? The lighting? The automated defences? Because the latter turned on after we came in here, and something opened the door for us, and turned on the lights too. And if there's no chance of humans being down here, then what else could it be?"

"That's all well and good," added Eli, "but have you forgotten what happened to the last Fireteam that went in to try and speak to Rasputin? And now we're potentially in the belly of another Warmind?"

They all fell silent. Of course they knew what happened to that unfortunate Fireteam: their bodies turning up days later, in the wilderness of Old Russia, the Light completely drained from their bodies. Even though Rasputin had aided the Guardians of the Tower to some extent, it had outright refused or retaliated to any form of cooperation between itself and the Tower. What if this potential Warmind was the same?

"Well, what other choice do we have?" retorted Sasha, ever the pragmatist. "We can't exactly go back the way we came in, can we? So we go forward, and deal with whatever we come across when we come across it."

"I like that suggestion," said Griff, and Logan was sure the Titan was smirking beneath his helm.

"Of course you do," sneered Arvo, "long as you get to smash something Griffin, that's you satisfied"-

"Enough," Eli snapped, and Arvo tutted and looked away. Eli looked back at the others. "They're right, we can't go back, so we go forwards instead."

"Fine by me," shrugged Elena, looking at Griff.

"I think this is a bad idea," Kal suddenly piped up, and six pairs of eyes turned to regard the little Ghost. "I mean…who knows what could be lurking down there?"

"Well then, let's go and see for ourselves, shall we?"

* * *

The plasma blast tore apart the corner of the building that Gravis crouched in, atomising bricks, mortar and glass like they were nothing, and pelting the kneeling Titan's pearlescent armour with a light hail of rubble and splinters. Then the dust cloud rolled in and over him, and he tucked his head in and low as it rushed by, and then just as quickly was gone.

"Damn it," he growled, standing up as the dust settled, and peered out through the massive hole that had been torn into the side of the building. He saw the Goliath tank outside, already approaching and preparing its cannon again, flanked by an entire squad of Legionnaires. In response, Gravis reached a hand up to his helm and opened his comms. "They're coming up the street now, hit them when you see the tank."

Out on the street, the Goliath's turret began to gather the energy required for a fresh shot, but just as it was passing by the bombed-out front of a towering apartment building, a rocket suddenly streaked out at almost point-blank range and smashed into one of the Goliath's engines, and the structure erupted in a ball of flame and acrid black smoke, the entire vehicle lurching sideways as its plasma cannon promptly unloaded its fire into the next building over, tearing another half-moon like chunk out of its surface. As the Legionnaires raised their rifles and began to search for the source of the rocket, the rattle of a machine gun was heard, and several of them were cut down.

As the Goliath began to turn ponderously to address this new threat, a figure clothed in a crimson red cloak and hood slipped out of the building on the opposite side of the street, running straight for the Goliath's side, vaulting up onto its weapon platform, too fast for the its hull-mounted defences to follow. There was a light _clang_ as the figure slapped something against the side of the Goliath's main turret, and was then diving away as the tracers from its smaller defences became visible. But none of it mattered when a sudden surge of purple electricity coursed through the tank as the charge went off, and then seconds later the tank's lights went off one by one, and its remaining engines failed, and it crashed to the ground as gravity did its inevitable work.

"Nice work," Gravis said over the comms, as he raised his rifle and dropped the last few Legionnaires with a few quick bursts. Soon, all that could be heard in the street was the crackle of flames as the Goliath was gradually consumed by fire that had started from its destroyed engine, slowly moving to engulf the entire machine. As the Titan stepped out into the main road, his fellow Guardians stepped out to meet him: the Hunter Ullis and the Warlock Piper.

"All good?" he asked.

"All good," they replied in unison.

"Alright, let's go and pick a new spot," he continued, checking his rifle over, "before any more of them come along."

"Might be a little late for that," said Piper, pointing down the road behind Gravis, towards a distant junction. Already they could see the light flares of Cabal jump packs firing, and the flash of blue and silver armour.

"Wonderful," growled Gravis, already making a move for another empty building across the street from their current location. As he did, the air beside him suddenly shimmered, and then the outline of a Feral Psion became visible, the wretch suddenly slashing at the Titan with its long claws, bypassing his shield and hacking into the plasteel of his breastplate.

"Son of a-!" he gasped, reaching out and snapping its neck like a twig with his free hand, then tossing the corpse aside, flattening a second Psion that appeared out of thin air. Then Piper dropped a third one with a close-ranged shot before it could even raise its claws.

"Damn things," growled Ullis as he raised his handcannon and aimed it down the street, in the direction of the approaching Legionnaires. "Any word from Fireteam Garnet?"

"Nothing," Gravis responded, shaking his head. While Onyx and Opal went into _Watson Cybernetics_ , Fireteams Gravis and Garnet were on distraction duties, leading the Planet Crackers on a merry dance through the streets of Old London, ambushing and laying waste to them as they spread their forces out. But despite felling at least three Goliath tanks and over fifty Cabal, they just kept coming, and they were finding themselves hard-pressed.

"Gravis!" shouted a voice through the comms link suddenly, "are you there?!"

"Hecaton?" Gravis responded, just as a slug round whined past his head and tore a lamppost down the street in half. He quickly dropped down into cover just as the rest of the Cabal opened up, rapidly filling the air with red-hot death, as Piper and Ullis returned fire. "Hecaton, where the hell are you guys?!"

"About two hundred yards from your current position!" the response came back. "You see the building with the half-collapsed front, down the main road you're on?" Gravis lifted his head up out of cover just far enough to see the building described to him, on the far side of the nearby Cabal squad.

"Yeah, I see it!"

"I'm in there, holed up with Talbot!" Hecaton responded. "We're holding, just about, but our way out's been blocked by more of those damn ghosting bastards, and we lost Pallas too!"

"Lost? Lost how?"

"Lost entirely," Hecaton responded. "He was downed, and his Ghost too. He's gone, 100%."

Gravis was silent for a long moment. "Shit."

"We can mourn her later!" Hecaton replied, just as there was a loud crack in the background, followed by the crump of a grenade going off, and the sustained rattle of an auto rifle. "Right now, we are just about to get overwhelmed, and could do with the help!"

"We've got another squad blocking us," Gravis replied, "but we'll be there as soon as we can, Hec! I'm not leaving you behind!"

"You'd better now," the leader of Fireteam Garnet threatened, "otherwise I'll make damned sure my Ghost torments you for the rest of your career in the Tower!"

The line cut out abruptly, and Gavis gave his head a little shake, before taking up his rifle again. "Alright guys, we're going to carve a path through these bastards, then we're heading for that collapsed building down the way and get Hecaton and Talbot out of there in one piece, understood?"

"Aye!" his squad mates responded.

"Good," Gravis growled, standing up and blasting the first Cabal he saw right in the face. "Let's go."

* * *

The bowls beneath _Watson Cybernetics_ extended out before them for what seemed like miles and miles. They strode out across a wide catwalk that hung above a deep, cavernous space that could have contained any of the buildings out on the main street twice over, with baleful lights twinkling out in the gloom, and thick bundles of cables crossing to and fro.

"What else could they have down here but a Warmind?" whispered Elena to herself as he gazed out into the Abyss. "Only something like that could require this much power…"

"Save the theories for later," Eli snapped.

"Oh, we can all theorize enough for all of us," Kal cheerily chirped, as he slowly orbited the advancing Guardians alongside his fellow Ghosts, as each of them scanned everything in reach, communicating between one another with clicks of binary cant.

"Good, long as you do it quietly," Arvo added, readjusting the strap on his fusion rifle again, impatient for the next fight. But there were no Cabal down here, thankfully. Their ammo supplies were starting to run low, at any rate.

"How much longer do we have to go?" asked Griff to Logan after a short bout of silence, getting impatient himself. "Feels as though we've been walking for a good hour and a half, at least."

"Thirty minutes," Logan corrected, his pedantic side coming through. "And we walk as long as it takes…we've come this far, after all."

"I know, I know, it's just the last time we were walking around inside a Warmind there were things shooting at us, and we could shoot back."

Logan smiled behind his visor. "I know, Griff. But it looks like the Fallen didn't even get into this place."

"Probably because of those defences outside," Eli reasoned. "It was defending itself like Rasputin has been, but unlike that one, this Warmind let us in. Why do you think that is?"

"It might need help?" Elena suggested, which drew a disbelieving click of the tongue from Arvo. "Look, Rasputin needed our help when those Fallen were inside it, trying to take it apart! This could be a similar situation – the Cabal up there have been trying to get inside for weeks, for all we know, and now a new party has come along that's fighting the Cabal…so it invited us in."

"Don't you think it might be a bit presumptuous trying to discern the agenda of a super-advanced AI from the Golden Age?" Arvo suggested from beside her. "I mean we've spent the best part of a year trying to start some communication with Rasputin…and nothing. What's to say that this one won't do the same to us? We end up dead on the side of the river some weeks later?"

"We've already come this far," Griff spoke up, "and if turn back now it will all have been wasted. So just keep your mouth shut for once, okay?"

"Hold up," Eli said suddenly before Arvo could snap back, "I see something ahead. Could be a corridor opening."

"Good, looks like we're getting somewhere."

They hurried on, passing out of the cavernous open space into a passage wide enough to accommodate them walking two abreast, passing along more plain steel-panelled walls, descending even further down into the belly of the earth.

"This looks promising," Kal suddenly announced, as the corridor suddenly opened out into a wide room, flanked on either side by a row of tower-like supercomputers. Many of them still had blinking lights visible, even as the lights overhead were almost entirely out.

"Still some residual power," Scarlett announced as it buzzed closer to one of the nearby stacks. "Even after all this time…impressive."

"It looks as though someone – or _something_ – was rerouting the power from non-critical systems in the building so that it could continue to power itself," explained Kal, before turning its gaze towards the massive unit in the centre of the room. It stretched right up into the ceiling, featuring a monitor screen and a console with a keyboard fixed at its base. The screen was black, and covered in a thick film of dust.

"No-one's been down here in a very long time," Elena reasoned as she walked up to the monitor and stopped, Scarlett hovering at her shoulder. Soon, Logan and Griff had joined her, standing at her shoulders.

"Those automated defences and that big door sure helped," Arvo said from the other side of the room, as he examined one of the towers.

"But is there anyone home?" Eli then asked, standing nearby. "Does that monitor and keyboard still have power?"

"Hang on," said Elena, reaching out to tap one of the keys – when a bright line suddenly flashed across the screen, and then it lit up entirely, showing a long, scrolling line of computer code in bright green characters. Elena stepped back in surprise, as did Logan, while the others flinched at the sudden motion and then swept their weapons up in case of a sudden attack.

"What did you press?!" asked Arvo, glancing over.

"I didn't press anything!" Elena insisted, "it just…woke up by itself!"

"As if it was waiting for someone to come along," Griff finished, staring at the screen as the rapidly scrolling code quickly slid away, replaced by a plain, black screen with a blinking cursor in the top left corner, as if it were waiting for an input. The Guardians just stared at it for a while, until the cursor began to rapidly blink across the screen from left to right, small green letters spelling out a message.

QUERY?

The small cursor continued to blink patiently at the end of the question, while the Guardians looked between one another in confusion. "The hell?" asked Griff eventually.

"It's…a text interface," Scarlett decided, as her little beam played up and down the side of the monitor and the tower it was attached to. "Like the type that crude, Golden Age AI's would use to communicate with their creators."

"Wait…AI's?" asked Eli, a hint of disbelief creeping into his normally level tone.

"Yes," Kal replied, coming around the opposite side of the tower to scan a different part. "this monitor seems to be acting as the mouth piece of an AI construct which resides in this building…it's why the defences outside were almost impregnable to the Cabal…until we came along."

"It was waiting for someone," reasoned Sasha. "It's been conserving power for Traveller knows how long, and then finally someone without violent intent towards it comes along and…open sesame."

The screen suddenly scrolled up a repeat of its previous question. QUERY?, with the blinking cursor after the question mark.

"…I think it wants us to ask a question?" suggested Garl, appearing at its master's left shoulder.

"Can it even hear us?"

AFFIRMATIVE.

The word suddenly scrolled up onto the monitor, causing the Ghosts to flinch back in surprise. "I think it can hear us," Garl replied.

"Alright," said Logan quietly, slinging his weapon away and standing in front of the monitor. "We are representatives of the Light, from the Tower...we serve the Traveller, to beat back the Darkness…do you understand?"

A brief pause, and then-

AFFIRMATIVE. THE DARKNESS IS A MALIGNENT FORCE THAT LAID WASTE TO HUMANITY'S EMPIRE MANY, MANY ORBITAL CYCLES AGO, DURING THE PERIOD COMMONLY REFERRED TO AS THE GOLDEN AGE.

"Alright, that's a good start," Logan nodded. "How long have you been down here?"

EXACT TIMESCALE UNKNOWN. POWER WAS DIVERTED FROM INTERNAL CLOCK AFTER APPROXIMATELY FIVE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-TWO EARTH ORBITAL CYCLES.

"Five hundred and thirty-two years…it's been down here over five hundred and thirty-two years," Elena explained.

"Wow," was all Arvo could muster, as the members of Fireteam Opal gathered around.

"But…what are you?" Logan asked.

SPECIFIC DESIGNATION: ALBERT, MODEL 3.17. GENERIC DESIGNATION: WARMIND.

 **A/N: So, they found another Warmind. Which I wanted to add because the the way they keep talking in the game there were multiple Warminds, but Rasputin was the only one they had come across so far...but will 'Albert' be more friendly than Rasputin has been so far? Find out next time on the Planet Crackers!**


	13. Albert

**Chapter 13: Albert**

 **Warmind Bunker, Designation: 'ALBERT', below Old London**

"…a Warmind…we found a Warmind under this city!"

"Yes Kal, you've said that a hundred times now," groaned Logan, "now would you kindly be quiet?"

"Sorry."

Logan had to admit it was a hell of a thing – finding another Warmind in this ruined world, even if this one seemed to only be half-complete, its primary functions reduced to defending itself while waiting for outside aid to come along, and maintaining its extensive data archives which were currently being kept in the server towers flanking its room. But he had to keep in mind they were still stuck down here, while up on street level Gravis and Hecaton were doing their best to draw the Cabal away.

 _Hold on just a little longer, guys,_ he thought.

Elena was sat cross-legged, in front of Albert's monitor while Scarlett buzzed at her shoulder, the two of them conversing with Albert, or as well as one could converse with a monitor screen and lines of streaming green code, in response to each patient, though-out question.

"What were your primary functions meant to be?" Elena asked. "I mean, before the Collapse, of course."

UNIT'S PRIMARY FUNCTIONS WERE 1: TO MAINTAIN THE DIGITAL INFORMATION FLOWS FOR THE ENTIRETY OF THE COUNTRY, AND TO ARCHIVE SAID DATA FOR FUTURE GENERATIONS. AND 2: TO MANAGE THE AUTOMATED DEFENCES OF THE CAPITAL IN CASE OF CONFLICT.

"And were you able to achieve those functions before the Collapse?"

1ST PRIMARY FUNCTION WAS ACHIEVED WELL WITHIN EXPECTED TIME SCALES. 2ND PRIMARY FUNCTION WAS NOT ACHIEVED WITHIN THE EXPECTED TIME SCALES, DUE TO THE DEATHS OF THE ENTIRE RESEARCH AND DEVLOPMENT TEAM OF WATSON CYBERNETICS.

"Oh," was all Elena could manage in reply to that. She glanced back at Logan, who just lowered his head a fraction, while the others busied themselves elsewhere in Albert's cavernous home.

"Ask it why it's called Albert," Arvo suggested suddenly, backing away from the server bank he had been examining closely. "Bit of a random name, isn't it? Not like Rasputin."

DESIGNATION 'ALBERT' DERIVED FROM LOCAL HISTORY, AS WERE THE NAMES OF FELLOW WARMIND INTELLIGENCES. IN THIS UNIT'S CASE, NAME WAS DERIVED FROM THE HUSBAND OF QUEEN VICTORIA, ONE OF THE COUNTRY'S ANCIENT RULERS.

"We saw a statue of her elsewhere," said Elena cheerily.

"Guess it isn't so random then," mumbled Arvo, turning away as Elena subsequently continued asking the questions.

"We shouldn't waste anymore time down here," Griff said to Logan at one point, leaning in close to whisper into the Hunter's ear. "You know Gravis and Hecaton are up there, keeping the Cabal distracted while we're down here."

"I know," Logan sighed, "but do you see a way out of this place? Because I sure don't."

"Then ask the big tin can for a way out," Griff retorted, thumbing a hand over his shoulder towards where Elena was crouched by the monitor, conversing with an ancient intelligence. "I'm sure it knows at least that."

"I've already asked El to do that, soon as she learns what she needs to," Logan responded.

"Well I hope she doesn't forget," Griff mumbled.

"Albert, are you are of anymore operational Warminds in the world?" Elena asked next, leaning closer to the monitor. "Are you aware of Rasputin, by any chance?"

THIS UNIT IS AWARE OF THE WARMIND INITIATIVE. THIS UNIT DOES NOT DETECT ANY OTHER WARMIND UNITS WITHIN THE OPERATING AREA.

"Shame," said Scarlett. The Ghost turned to regard Elena, who just shrugged her shoulders and glanced back at the others, looking for guidance.

"Try asking it if was the one controlling the automated defences back there," suggested Arvo, orbiting closer to the central console.

AFFIRMATIVE, the screen read. NUMEROUS OUTSIDE FORCES HAVE ATTEMPTED TO GAIN ENTRY TO THIS BUNKER OVER THE LAST ORBITAL CYCLE. THIS UNIT BELIEVES THEIR INTENTIONS TO BE COUNTER-PRODUCTIVE TO THIS UNIT'S ONGOING OPERATION, SO HAS TAKEN MEASURES TO DENY SAID FORCES.

"But why did you let us through?" asked Arvo. "Technically we're outside forces as well, right?"

THAT IS CORRECT. HOWEVER, MY INITIAL SCANS DETECTED TRACES OF TECHNOLOGY FIRST ENCOUNTERED WHEN THE GOLDEN AGE OF HUMANITY BEGAN, WHEN THE TRAVELLER FIRST CAME TO EARTH.

They all fell silent at that, looking between one another. Even Eli had joined the impromptu gathering, and was the one who vocalised the realisation first. "Our Ghosts. It means our Ghosts…has to be."

"Us?" asked Kal, buzzing around with its fellow Ghosts. "…you scanned us and detected the Light in us?"

QUERY. THIS UNIT DOES NOT UNDERSTAND THE CONCEPT OF 'LIGHT'.

"Oh, it's…" began Elena, before she then rapidly gave up. "It's a very long story, but the Light is what the Traveller gifted us to fight against the Darkness."

INFORMATION NOTED AND COMMITED TO MEMORY BANKS, the monitor helpfully told them.

Somewhere above their heads, there was a low rumble, and a thin trickle of dust cascaded down from the ceiling. They all glanced upwards, all too aware that they couldn't afford to spend anymore time down here than they already had. With just a cursory gesture, Griff and Sasha ran to grab their weapons, closely followed by Arvo and Eli, while Logan and Elena remained by the central console.

"Albert, is there a way out of here other than the way we came in?" Logan asked the monitor with its blinking cursor.

AFFIRMATIVE. I SHALL ACTIVATE THE EMERGANCY ELEVATOR WHICH WILL TAKE YOU BACK TO THE SURFACE. I SHALL ALSO PROGRAMME SAID ELEVATOR TO REACTIVATE WITHIN PRESENCE OF YOUR…GHOSTS.

"Thank you," nodded Logan, even though he was fairly sure that the Warmind couldn't see the gesture. He retrieved his scout rifle and glanced at Elena. "Come on El, we need to go."

"But what about Albert?" protested Scarlett, its eye pieces wide open. "We just discovered a working Warmind that isn't trying to kill us and you're suggesting we just leave it here? What if the Cabal find a way in?"

"With those defences it has, I seriously doubt that," Arvo chimed in, stepping up to the gathering. "Come on, I'm sure it'll still be here next time we swing by."

DO NOT BE WORRIED, the screen suddenly scrolled, MY CORE FUNCTIONS AND FEATURES ARE QUITE SAFE IN THIS BUNKER. I SHALL CONTINUE TO CONSERVE POWER UNTIL YOUR RETURN.

"Thank you," Elena whispered. "There's so much more I want to ask you"-

"Save it for another time, El!" cried out Griff, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Come on. We've got friends waiting for us."

* * *

Ullis cried out when a stray slung round ripped through the brick wall beside him and tore through his shoulder, spraying some dark green lubricant across the opposite wall. He cursed and fell back as a fusillade of slug rounds tore overhead, forcing them all to duck low. "Piper!" he cried.

"On it!" the Warlock replied, tossing a grenade overhand down the brick passageway. It bounced off two different walls with a metallic _clang_ on each impact, then vanished around the corner and went off with a low crump which shook some more dust from the ceiling and prompted some bellowing cries from the Cabal.

"I'm nearly out!" cried Talbot from the back room, as the Titan strafed the alleyway just outside the window of the office he was with his machine gun tearing through another squad of Legionnaires as they tried to force their way up. Already a dozen bodies littered the narrow space, but they just kept coming. And now they were starting to send in the much smaller Psions to navigate the crush of bodies.

"Damn it!" Hecaton growled, a rather cynical Awoken in the garb of a Warlock, the edges of his robes singed and marked with several near misses in the last hour or two. With his Fireteam already down by one member, it took all they had just to keep the Planet Crackers back. He saw the shimmer of a stealth field and promptly unloaded his shotgun towards it, tearing the Feral Psion in half and splattering the brickwork with more purple blood.

"I know!" Gravis called out, frantically reloading his rifle as he crouched himself right in the far corner of the room they were gathered in, even though it wouldn't give him much protection from the slug rounds used by the Planet Crackers – it passed through most materials like paper, and even his shield could only absorb a few direct hits. He thought that time he had tackled a full cohort of Blind Legion on Mars in the transit tunnels beneath Freehold was the worst fight of his life. But he was wrong: this was the worst fight of his life now.

There was so much noise he almost missed the crackle of the comms link in his ear, and then a voice he hadn't heard in a while came through.

"…vis? Gravis! Can you hear me?!"

"Logan?" gasped Gravis, just as a slug round tore through the plaster above his head, and he quickly turned and blazed away with his rifle, driving back the Legionnaires attempting to push through.

"It's me! We're back on street level, Gravis! I'm pinging for your location now!" At that remark, gravis quickly checked his locater, and saw – aside from the cluster of angry red dots around the handful of barely visible blue dots – he saw another half dozen blue markers, at the extreme edge of the display, at least a hundred yards out.

"…how the hell did you get that close?" Gravis asked, bellowing his question over the sheer noise of the battle.

"Long story, Gravis!" Logan called back, interspersed with the huffing of someone running at a dead sprint. "We're coming to you! Just hold on a little longer!"

"Easy for you to say," growled Gravis, just as another stray slug round smashed into his shield, and the warning runes in his helmet lit up as it collapsed in an instant. His head snapped around in time to see a Legionnaire standing inside of a wide doorway, and with a foul curse he got his rifle up and took its head off with a quick burst. The corpse crashed over onto its side, jetting purple blood from the neck stump. "We're pinned down here and they're hammering us with everything they've got!"

"Just hold on, Gravis! You're a tough bastard, and you can survive this!" called Logan back, and then the line was cut.

"How kind of you," growled Gravis, as he slapped his last available magazine into his rifle. "Well, let's go and show the Cabal what they're dealing with, shall we?"

* * *

After being promptly directed into a cargo elevator which just about fit all six of them – crammed in tightly like sardines in a can – they had come out onto a street parallel to where Hecaton and Gravis were making their last stand. The roads were practically abandoned, but the smoking remains of a Goliath tank – and plenty of dead Cabal – showed that the war was still raging.

They sprinted head on into the next street, saw the Cabal cohort – or what remained of it at least – laying siege to a half-collapsed building that looked in real danger of collapsing entirely, burying everyone inside. The roar of gunfire and the bellowing of Cabal throats formed a considerable cacophony that almost drowned out the autosenses in their helmets, but the Guardians ran on, knowing they couldn't waste any more time here.

There was no time to forge a complex plan of attack, so they just followed Griff's lead and tore into the Cabal from behind. A dozen Legionnaires were put down in the first few seconds of the engagement, and then as the others turned to face this new threat, a Void Bomb from Elena and Eli's Shadowshot Bow tore into them, sowing more destruction. Griff shoulder-charged a Centurion that stood before him, then unloaded three shotgun shells into its head before it could recover.

"They're still on the tracker!" called out Kal in Logan's ear, as the Hunter's throwing knife felled a Psion that came into view. For once, it wasn't a Feral version.

"Then we've still got a chance of getting them out, push in!" Logan called out, and the others needed no further excuse as they forced on to the front of the building, wiping out the rest of the scattered Cabal, and then they were inside the dusty lobby of the building, littered with more dead bodies and spent shell casings the size of their hands. Many of the walls were half-collapsed or badly pockmarked with huge impact craters. In the far corner was a crumpled, human-sized form.

"Hang on," said Elena, approaching it. "Is that?"

"It's Pallas," said a voice from behind them, and they all turned at the sound of the familiar, strained voice to see Gravis standing there, just watching them. His rifle was held low in his hands. Behind him in the doorway, Hecaton and Ullis lingered.

"About damn time you showed up," growled Ullis. "Pallas died giving you your time, you know"-

"Enough," snapped Gravis wearily, glancing back over his shoulder. "Yelling and shouting won't do us any good down here. Not while we're still in the viper's nest." Ullis made a derisive noise and turned away instead, disgust clear in his body language. In the corner, Griff and Sasha quietly crouched by Pallas' body and bowed their heads in reverence, before the former carefully scooped up what remained of the fallen Guardian's Ghost, so that it could be returned to the Traveller, from whence it first came.

"Another lost soul to be returned home," whispered Griff.

"So, I hoped you found what you were after in there," Hecaton added from the doorway, wiping a hand across his shredded clothing from an earlier near-miss.

"Oh we sure did," replied Arvo, the smirk in his voice apparent, "and then some."

"Such as?" asked Ullis, looking over.

"That's…a very long story," Logan interrupted, "and we don't have the time to tell it right now." As if to emphasise his point, they all the incoming jets of approaching Harvester's, and they knew that a fresh cohort of Planet Crackers was bearing down on them.

"I agree with Logan," Gravis said, glancing up towards the crumbling ceiling they stood beneath, "we can't let them bury us in here. We fall back to the extraction point and transmat back to our ships. Then we can spend as much time as we want to discuss what the others found in that building."

There wasn't much left to say, as Logan flagged up a position to the north east where they were due to be extracted, and they went for it, vaulting out through the building's back window and making a run for it up the alleyway littered with twisted corpses, as the Harvesters came in closer. Elsewhere, one particular Harvester changed its course, its heavy cargo eager to be deployed.

* * *

The eleven Guardians made it to the extraction point without being bothered, but as it turned out they couldn't leave just yet, as Kal began to make a warning chime sound, and then cut into their communications. "I'm detecting a lot of AA cannons in the area…the ships won't be able to get anywhere near as it currently stands."

"Well that's just wonderful," groaned Arvo, shaking his head. "What the hell are we meant to do now?"

"Hold on," said Orrick, suddenly appearing out of nowhere, his eye lens clicking and whirring. "I'm picking up a signal nearby. It's…like a control centre for the local automated defences. If I can get access to that, then I'll be able to shut down all the guns in the area so the ships can come in. It'll take a bit of time though."

"Well, unless anyone else has any better ideas?" asked Griff, looking around, being rewarded only with silence. He just shrugged his shoulders and looked at Orrick. "Alright, lead the way."

"Hold on!" called Scarlett suddenly, overriding everyone's comms channel to warn them. "There's a Harvester high above us…it's just dropped something off! Something big!"

They all cast their eyes skyward at Kal's warning, and they saw the speck of the Cabal ship high above, and then they saw the other thing that had been dropped, plummeting to earth with the speed of a comet. In an instant, they scattered for the nearest form of cover they could find, as the object smashed into the street, hard enough to bore a four-foot crater straight down, throwing chunks of tarmac a good thirty feet into the air, rubble and dust raining down all around it. The Guardians threw their heads down and covered them as pieces of brick, stone and glass, pinged off their shields and armour.

Logan peered his head out as soon as the hail of rubble had abated, and got his first glimpse of what the Cabal had just dropped in. For a few precious moments he thought it was a Colossus, but he quickly saw otherwise.

Still in a crouch, it resembled a Cabal, but much, much larger in scale and size, formed from the same type of alien alloy that plated their shields and their Harvesters: huge moulded plates of armour across limbs and a broad chest emblazoned with the Planet Crackers sigil, and joints bristling with servos and pistons. The end of each arm ended in a huge weapon: some form of rotary cannon on the left arm, and a single-bore weapon on the right. Where the head would have been a dome of translucent glass-like material, and behind it he saw the head and shoulders of a Cabal Centurion, complete with crested helm.

With a low whine that began to steadily build in volume and speed, the huge turbine engine built into the back of the machine's chassis ignited, and the machine began to raise itself up to its full height, with the clank and grind of its internal mechanics. As it reached its full height, Logan had to crane his neck up to look at the glass cockpit.

"That's…that's new," chimed Kal in his ear.

With another whine of internal mechanics, the machine took a single step up out of its little crater, its footfall cracking the tarmac it stood upon and shaking the remaining pieces of glass out of the windows surrounding it. It took another step, crossing a good ten feet.

"Oh, now what?" growled Griff from his own cover position, as he, Sasha and Arvo stood their ground, aiming their weapons towards the approaching war machine.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Elena replied casually. "It's nothing we've ever seen before."

 _Just like the Feral Psions,_ thought Logan bitterly, _and now…this!_

There was another low whine as it raised its left arm, and the barrels of its rotary cannon began to slowly turn.

" _Move!"_ bellowed Eli, throwing himself into cover as fast as he could manage, followed closely by Sasha and Arvo, and then the others, while Logan threw himself flat as he could down behind the ruin he was crouched in. But Ullis and Hecaton were just a little too slow, and found themselves caught completely unprepared for the storm of devastation the cannon unleashed.

It was like an upscaled version of a heavy slug thrower, but the fire rate was so high that it seemed like a constant beam of red energy that streaked out, destroying everything it touched in an instant; bricks, stone, mortar, steel, all vaporised in an instant. And that went for Guardian shields too, which simply ceased to exist in a single instant, and then Ullis and Hecaton were just _gone,_ with only the bright white light of their Ghosts left over, attempting a revive.

"Holy…!" was all Arvo could muster as he stared at where two of his friends had been standing just moments before, then he turned his furious gaze towards the war machine as it drew a little closer. "You son of a…!" the Warlock yelled, rising and firing a hasty shot from his fusion rifle.

They all saw the incandescent bolt splash against the glass bubble, but other than leaving a black scorch mark across its surface, it did nothing else. In reply, the machine began to turn its other weapon towards the source of the blast. Arvo slowly lowered his weapon when he saw that it wouldn't do any damage to this thing whatsoever. None of their weapons would: they all knew how Cabal hull plating was almost impervious to harm.

"Arvo, move!" bellowed Sasha, suddenly grabbing the Warlock by his shoulders and turning, effectively tossing him a good twelve feet back into the ruins. Which was just as well, as the massive cannon fired, launching a glowing ball of pulsating purple energy, which bored straight through the wall where Arvo had been standing, then impacted into the street and gouged out a crater six feet deep, leaving melted tarmac ringing the impact zone.

"Heads up, we have more Cabal incoming," Kal then chimed, and Logan and Eli turned to see a fresh squad of Planet Crackers approaching, their jump packs flaring as they touched down.

"Wonderful," groaned Sasha as she aimed her rifle towards them.

"We need to focus on getting the hell out of here," Eli reasoned, not taking his eye off the approaching machine that had just murdered Hecaton and Ullis, "but we can't leave our comrades behind, either."

"I agree," Logan growled, glancing across at his fellow Guardians. "We still need to clear the skies for our ships to do their fly-by. Sasha, Griff, Elena: get to that control station and shut it down, whatever it takes. The rest of you"- he glanced around at Eli briefly, "let's find a way to bring this monster down."

They turned to look at the looming war machine as it approached, its rotary cannon beginning to wind up to fire again. The Guardians broke cover then, Griff, Sasha and Elena running towards the Legionnaires up the street, while the rest of them ran right _at_ the machine. It tried to swing its cannon down to target Logan and Eli as they came closer, but it couldn't track them that fast, even as the two of them went down low and slid right in between its legs. Meanwhile, Arvo pulled out his missile launcher and fired.

The projectile exploded against the machine's chest, with enough force to drive it back maybe half a step, and stop it from firing its cannon. Gravis and the others opened up with their rifles and grenades, but all of it was deflected by the thing's thick armour, but the grenades did leave scorch marks around its lower legs.

"Our regular guns can't make a dent in this thing!" cried Piper, as she instead ran to the glowing Ghosts of Hecaton and Ullis, and reached a hand out to transfer her own Light into the resurrection process. In seconds, Hecaton was back in one piece, shaking his head.

"What the hell just happened?" he demanded, as Ullis reappeared behind him, just as confused. Then he saw the immense war machine that seemed to fill the entire street before him, and he balked. "Oh…"

"Come on, let's find a way to kill it!" cried Piper, helping them both up and then leading them back into the fight, as a shell from the thing's main cannon collapsed the remains of a brick building a few yards away, throwing up a carpet of dust.

"Easier said than done!" Arvo groaned as he threw himself out of the way of another burst of fire from the machine's slug thrower, which collapsed the wall behind the Warlock instead. He fired another missile into the thing's knee, but once again, it did little save for scorching the paintwork. "We need another strategy here!"

"I'm all ears!" Eli yelled back, ducking down into cover as another stream of slug fire destroyed the rusted vehicles beside him.

A short distance away, Griff and Sasha hammered the advancing Cabal blocking their route to the control centre with short, accurate bursts of rifle fire, while Elena forged on ahead, her handcannon's booming retorts blowing off Cabal heads or tearing massive, gaping wounds through Psions. All the while, she kept stealing a glance back down the main street, where her fellow Guardians were locked in mortal combat with the towering war machine, with its weapons capable of knocking down entire buildings in a single salvo…or vaporising their bodies and shields in an instant.

"Elena!" cried Griff, "we need you!"

"Right!" she called back, focusing on the task before her as she blew off the leg of another Legionnaire with a bullet to its knee.

Gravis pulled Piper away and out of line of sight as the machine fired its plasma cannon again, narrowly missing them and destroying a ruined truck that was parked further down the street. "Thanks," the Warlock said, breathlessly, before pushing away and opening fire, but once again her rifle was just stopped by the armour plating. Then Arvo hit it with another missile, rocking it just enough to get the pilot's attention, and it started to ponderously turn its upper body to face this new threat. As it turned, Piper saw the huge turbine engine mounted on the machine's back – and saw how unprotected it looked.

"Look!" she called out, pointing, and Gravis followed her line of sight. "Its main engine is exposed."

"Good eye," he said, and promptly raised his rifle, sighting in on the apparent weakness of the machine. Piper followed his lead, and after a brief pause they both opened fire. They saw the sparks flying as their bullets hammered inside of the turbine, and then witnessed the machine suddenly turning to face them, as if it realised it had left its weak spot open.

"Everyone, the turbine on its back is a weak spot!" piper called into the general comms channel. "Say again, the turbine on its back is a weak spot! It's the only exposed part of the damn thing!"

"I hear you," Logan said quietly, his sniper rifle laid out through a fallen and cracked-open drainage pipe. He had a clear shot of the turbine, thanks to Piper and Gravis' intervention, and he bided his time until he had an unrestricted, head-on view of said turbine. Then with a great crack, his rifle fired. He saw the bright flash of sparks as his round impacted head on, and the machine seemed to flinch, trying to turn itself around in time to protect its weak spot.

But the others had already caught on,, the machine was too slow to turn suddenly, and they were starting to find other weak spots. Risking the chance to get closer, Hecaton fired a shotgun into a back of the machine's left knee from a few feet away. He must have hit something vital, as there was another spray of sparks, and then thick, dark lubricant sprayed from the joint. The whole machine seemed to lurch sideways a little, then it frantically turned, its cannon arm crashing into the Exo and tossing him a good twelve feet away, but Arvo and Gravis were hitting the machine from the opposite side, aiming for its other knee joint. More sparks showered as a lucky hit found its mark, and they could see the thing starting to lock up.

"It's slowing down!" bellowed Eli, "finish it off!" he then cried, focusing his fire on the exposed turbine. Beside him, Logan rose from his own cover and opened fire with the Black Spindle, hammering the exposed engine with a hail of fire. On either side of them, their comrades formed up into a firing line, unloading all they could into the imposing metal giant before them. Despite initial appearances, it wasn't as invulnerable as it had first looked.

It tried to turn to face them, but it was all in vain. Soon, an explosion suddenly erupted from its turbine engine, and the high-pitched whine slowly eased off, and then there was a groaning of metal as the giant's limbs seized up in turn. Then there was a second explosion from somewhere inside of its torso, and it slowly keeled over onto its face, trailing acrid smoke.

It crashed face-first into the street, throwing up a hail of tarmac chips and gravel shards. The ground beneath their feet shook, but they kept their balance, just about. They kept their weapons trained on the thing's fallen form for what seemed like an age, but in the end, it stayed where it was.

"It's down!" called out Arvo, a little unnecessarily.

"We see that," sighed Logan. "What else have the Planet Crackers got up their sleeve?" he then asked, as Kal and Orrick set about scanning the fallen machine. Just then their comms channel chimed.

"The skies are open!" called Griff, "so we'd better be making a move now!"

"Kal, get our ships in, now!" Logan ordered, as he became aware of more Cabal Legionnaires closing in, drawn by the sound of the battle.

"Already requested," Kal chimed back, and the Guardians drew in close together, forming a defence against the approaching enemy. Hecaton, Gravis, Piper and Ullis looked badly exhausted, having fought a near-constant running battle with the Planet Crackers, and not looking ready to go for another round anytime soon.

"Ships within transmat range!" Kal chimed, and Logan glanced up to see the small, dart-like shapes against the sky. AA fire was chasing some of them, but they wouldn't be hanging around for much longer.

"Alright, let's go!" Logan called, and in an instant, with a flash of pure Light, they were all trasmatted into their cockpits in an instant, and then they were speeding away from Old London, once more leaving the Cabal far behind, though the Legionnaires still fired up after the fleeing ships in a show of frustration.

Another narrow victory.

* * *

As the formation of ships flew across the plains towards the City, Logan leaned back in his seat and opened the comm channel to the Vanguard. "This is Logan…can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Logan," Zavala replied.

"Aye, loud and clear," parroted Cayde. "So, did you all have fun on your field trip?"

"You could say that," Hecaton cut in from his own ship. "The Planet Crackers have a lot more than cloaked Psions to deal with…and we lost Pallis."

There were a few beats of silence.

"Oh," said Cayde quietly, "I'm sorry to hear that, Hecaton. How'd it go down?"

"Glorious last stand," Talbot answered. "Just like he always wanted."

"Well, at least he did his part for the Tower," Ikora Rey intoned. "His sacrifice will not be forgotten, I promise you."

"We already know that," Sasha added. "We've bought what's left of his Ghost back, for the Speaker. That Light can still serve a use."

"Good," Zavala added. "Now, did your foray into _Watson Cybernetics_ bear any fruit?"

"Well…you could say that," Elena replied. "It's a very long story, though."

"Well, we'll look forward to hearing your report, Elena," Zavala replied. "Come on home safe, all of you."

"We will," Logan replied, "Logan out."

 **A/N: Okay, we're back again. Sorry for the time it took to get this chapter out, but it seems to be the norm now that I keep getting distracted by real world responsibilities.**

 **But anyhow, the next update isn't going to be a proper chapter, but an 'Interlude' which will explain some more of the history between Logan and Eli's fireteams, and also give a glimpse into what their relationship was like before everything went sour. So in the meantime, R & R as usual please. All feedback is appreciated. **


	14. Interlude: The Three Hunters

**Interlude: The Three Hunters**

Back in the Tower, there was a lot to process. So much data collected by their Ghosts, and so much seen with their own eyes. A new, non-hostile warmind that seemed willing to co-operate. Cabal war machines with enough power to level entire city blocks. The ever-looming threat of a Cabal invasion against the City. A lifetime of useful data for Elena, Arvo and the other Warlocks to pore over, looking for any edge against this new threat.

And, as ever, the loss of old comrades.

Logan stood in the Memorial Gardens as the Frames installed Pallas' grave – a plain slab of grey marble, engraved with the symbol of a blazing star and with the Hunter's name and personal glyph. Once the work was done, the Frames turned and trudged away, as there was always more to be done. Logan waited until they were at a respectable distance, then stepped up to it and laid his gloved palm against it.

"Sorry Pallas," he said quietly. "I wished you had the chance to see the Reef one more time." Then he stepped away from it, just as he heard someone else approaching. He turned just as Hecaton and Talbot approached, and he quickly stepped away.

"Logan," Talbot said quietly, his blue eyes regarding Logan with a keen sharpness possessed by most Hunters, while Hecaton ignored Logan entirely as he crouched before the grave and bowed his head in respect, then whispered something to the stone, something personal no doubt. Logan just stood by until Hecaton had said what he needed to say, then Talbot took over, bowing his head and whispering something else, something in the Awoken language.

Fireteam Hecaton was well known for being one of the few Fireteams that were comprised entirely of the same species: in their case, Awoken. Each of them had originally come from the Reef, to participate in the wider war against the Darkness, to give their people a chance to thrive. They had accepted censure from their own people to come here, but they had accepted that fate anyway. That was the depth of their dedication. And now one of their eternal trio was gone.

And in part, it was Logan's fault. It had been his idea for Fireteams Hecaton and Gravis to act as decoy when this plan had first been concocted, and now the former had paid. He could sense Hecaton's and Ullis' hostility since they had made it back to the Tower, but the others – like Talbot – just seemed to accept the way of things. It was the life they had accepted. He still felt that spike of resentment towards him as Hecaton pushed past him, heading straight for the stairwell to exit. Talbot followed, but he slowed down and stopped at Logan's side, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"You know what we all signed up for," he said. "We all know this is just a variation of what happens to us all, eventually. Us Guardians…our luck runs out sooner or later." Then he clapped a hand on Logan's shoulder, and walked away to catch up with Hecaton. It was such a Hunter thing to say, Logan was convinced that Cayde was speaking to him through Talbot at that point.

He turned back to look at Hecaton's memorial stone, and then he turned a slow one-eighty degrees to look south, at Alexa's own memorial. He sighed and shut his eyes.

 **Venus, sixteen months ago…**

"…and that makes a dozen, Logan. I'll inform the Vanguard of your efforts."

"Thanks Kal," Logan smiled beneath his helmet as he tossed the Goblin eye he had just forcibly removed from a fallen Vex Goblin into the air and caught it again, repeating the motion a few times. "Whatever would I do without you?"

"Wander aimlessly and look for things to shoot and loot?"

"Wow, someone is feeling sassy today."

The Hunter stood in the shadow of the Vex Citadel, a colossal structure formed from the perfect geometric squares which the Vex seemed to enjoy a monopoly on. It stretched so far up into the sky that its top half was obscured in cloud, and its foundations spread out across the small basin it had dropped itself into like some manufactured tree, a blight against the normally lush green of Venus' undergrowth.

It hadn't been that long that Fireteam Onyx had touched down on Venus for the first time, investigating the Ishtar Academy and having their first face-to-face introduction to the Vex lifeforms: row upon row of the clanking, relentless Goblins and Hobgoblins accompanied by towering Minotaurs, wielding weaponry and technology of the like that none of them had experienced so far. They had barely survived that battle, the floors or the Academy library littered with hundreds of glittering body parts.

And then after a somewhat baffling encounter with a Stranger who seemed to have come from another time altogether, they had been let loose upon this new world on an extended patrol, to understand its geography, the threats it harboured – Vex in and around their Citadel and the Fallen congregating around the geothermal vents and the intricate cave systems that stood beside them – and explore the Golden Age ruins in search of loot. The three of them were forging their own path right now, picking up Vanguard requests and slaying foes as they went, but remaining close enough to meet up again in an instant if required.

A quick chime in Logan's ear confirmed that the Glimmer reward from the Vanguard had come through, along with a handful of Vanguard Marks: nearly enough to be traded in at one of the guilds for a new piece of kit. "Alright, onto the next one, I suppose?" Kal asked rhetorically, already pinging a new location to Logan's tracker, even as the latter prepared to call his Sparrow.

But then, he caught a glimpse of something at the edge of the basin – just on the very tip of a small ridge leading down into a stream – and he paused, reaching for his rifle instead. "Hold that thought Kal," he said instead, walking to investigate.

There was a fluorescent white substance sprayed across a clutch of long grass and some dark green moss. Logan had seen plenty of it in the recent past: it was the same fluid that the Vex 'bled' when damaged, and sure enough there was a fallen Goblin at the bottom of the ridge, half-submerged in brackish water, its central core cracked clean open, weeping more fluid. A short distance away, two more Goblins and a Hobgoblin lay twisted and mangled, bleeding out into the water. They hadn't been shot; that much was for certain. "Looks like someone else has been busy," Kal mused, but Logan's attention was further on into the creek bed, where he swore he could see the slight movement of Vex units on the move. He could also hear the distinctive sound of Slap rifles firing too. They were chasing someone, hard.

"And that someone's in trouble," Logan replied to his Ghost, sliding down the slope into the creek and wading on through the water, its coldness leeching through his pants and prickling at his skin. As he waded, he keyed in to his fellow Guardians. "Guys, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Logan," Elena's voice chimed back. "Don't worry about Griffin: I can see him from where I am right now. He's in the middle of beating a Fallen Captain to death with his bare hands."

"Obviously," said Kal with a roll of its eye.

"Well tell him to hurry up: I think there might be another Guardian in danger here from a lot of Vex, and I'd appreciate some help instead of just charging in blindly," Logan explained. "So come to my tracker soon as you're able."

"Will do, Elena out," the Warlock responded, before her voice was lost in the screech of static.

Logan followed the creek to its end, stepping over and past even more Vex carcasses, some of them still spurting sparks from severed limbs and opened bellies, showing this had just recently happened. He could hear the percussive slap of Vex weapons much more clearly now, could see where Minotaurs had passed through, flattening undergrowth and toppling trees, leaving splintered trunks in their wake. He could see the broad backs of at least two of them now, surrounded by a veritable horde of Goblins and Hobgoblins. As Logan crashed through the undergrowth fifteen yards behind the group, three Goblins turned to meet him.

He dropped the first one with an expertly-aimed throwing knife to the core, nailed the second with a quick double tap and then hurled himself sideways as the third opened fire with a stream of red projectiles. As he landed hard in the grass, he tossed an incendiary grenade which rolled into the midst of the Vex and ignited, burning away a handful of the machines and scorching a burning halo in the undergrowth to boot. He came up on the opposite side of a thick and twisted tree as Vex weapon fire began to hammer against it.

"Watch out for them flanking you, Logan!" warned Kal, just as he saw the tell-tale white shine of a pair of Goblins appearing to his right, and he turned and dropped both of them with a double-tap to the core. As they went down, spewing white fluid, he thought he could hear another sound above the general cacophony: the hiss of tempered steel cleaving through alien metal. The target of the Vex's ire was fighting back.

The stinging red trail of a Hobgoblin's rifle sliced through the air a half inch from Logan's right ear, and he focused in time to dive headlong into another patch of undergrowth to throw off the other Hobgoblins trying to draw a bead on him. Closing his eyes, he summoned up the arc energy that was churning deep inside his being, before he burst out in a flurry of motion, tearing through the ranks of Goblins as they marched towards him, firing their weapons. Slivers of alien metal and splashes of white fluid sprayed every which way, the former slicing through the softer parts of the other Vex that had drawn too near to Logan's little rampage, while the latter just painted the trees and the uncaring gaze of the articificial contructs.

Then a blazing bolt of fusion energy ripped through more of the Vex, atomising three of them in short order. Logan stared for a moment, and then followed the path of the shot back to its original source, to see a familiar figure standing on the edge of the clearing.

"Sorry we're late," Elena said cheerily.

"Yeah, stuck in traffic," joked Griff as he appeared at the other end of the clearing, punching a Goblin's head clean off, then finishing it with a point-blank shotgun blast to the core. He moved on into the horde of clanking machines, blowing apart more of them or simply taking others apart with his bare hands. The Vex began to focus on him, allowing Logan and Elena too slip in closer to their original target.

There was another Guardian making a last stand at the foot of a huge, lopsided tree. They were armed only with some kind of blade, but they were more than holding their own, cutting down Goblins, Hobgoblins and the odd Harpy with two-handed swings and sweeps of said blade. Great arcs of white fluid sprayed into the air with each stroke, and odd severed body part.

There was a crackle in the air as Logan activated his Arc Blade, and soon he was tearing through the Vex from behind, dropping a Minotaur by slicing through its ankles in one blow and then turning his attention to the swarming smaller machines. Elena wasn't far behind, tossing a grenade overhand at the one remaining Minotaur. The orb smacked against its breastplate and drew its attention long enough to turn its torso towards her, before it went off and promptly tore out its legs and most of its hip, and it collapsed onto the grass, spraying more of its lifeblood.

A second Minotaur began to turn to face the carnage, just as a pissed off Titan wielding a broken tree trunk like an improvised club ran in and swept its legs out from under it with a crunch of alien alloy bending and warping like wet paper, and then its head was promptly destroyed as said tree trunk impaled straight through, and its limbs slapped once against the sodden ground and that was it. There were a few more cracks of gunfire as Elena and Logan finished off the rest of the smaller Vex, and then the silence fell.

"I think that's the last of…hold on, not just yet," announced Kal quietly, turning its gaze towards the lopsided tree, where the lone Guardian with the heavy blade was still fighting against the final four Goblins that were surrounding them and firing their weapons at almost point-blank range, most of it pattering harmlessly against the Guardian's shield.

The Guardian cleaved the first Goblin in two from its left hip to its right shoulder, then expertly spun as a pair of scorching red projectiles flew over his own shoulder and decapitated the second one with a horizontal slash, before quickly following up with a thrust to its core. But he was still ripping the weapon free when a shot from one of the remaining Goblins seared right through the Guardians left hip. He barked out a cough as the force of impact turned him around savagely, making him drop his weapon. But before the Goblins could draw any closer, there was a double purr of a pulse rifle firing twice, and the remaining Vex dropped on the spot. Their cores shattered like eggs, their fluid splashing across the leaves and the grass. With another choked gasp, the Guardian collapsed onto one knee.

"Detecting no more Vex signals…I think we're clear," Kal chimed out.

"Good," said Griff, tossing aside the now-splintered trunk he'd been using as a bludgeon minutes beforehand. It was sprayed from one end to the other with Vex fluid.

"Close one, eh?" asked a new voice and they spun around to face a Warlock wielding a pulse rifle who stepped out of the trees just beside where the exhausted Guardian had slumped down. He had the rifle lifted right up against his right shoulder now, and took a cursory glance around at the countless Vex body parts scattered around the little clearing. "Well…looks like I missed most of the fun."

Logan didn't reply to that, as he was too aware of the fact there was someone – or something – else in the vicinity, and he slowly reached down for one of his throwing knives. He spied the shimmer of a stealth field out of the corner of his eye, and he pulled his knife free and turned to toss it at the disturbance. But something hard and metallic crashed into his own knife and knocked it from his hand, and as he drew back he reached around behind and drew the sidearm he had tucked there.

"You've got good reflexes," said an unfamiliar female voice, from behind a Guardian's mask. The shimmering nothingness stirred a little. "But not that good, I'm afraid." Then the stealth field dropped and they were left facing another Guardian, garbed in the tattered and mud and dust-splattered cloak of a Hunter, in practical green and brown tones.

"Clearly," Logan replied, flatly.

"It's alright Lex," said a new voice, and they glanced across at the crouching Guardian beneath the tree, his shoulders still heaving up and down as he came down from his adrenaline high. "It's alright…I would have been killed if they hadn't come along when they did." Judging by the wounded Guardian's garb, he too was a Hunter.

"Guess we really did miss all the fun, eh, Lex?" said the Warlock casually, his rifle still propped up against his shoulder as he looked at the female Hunter in the tattered cloak.

"There'll always be next time, Arvo," Lex replied, and then she noticed how Fireteam Onyx were still standing there, in a little semicircle, just watching cautiously. "But anyway…where are my manners? Thank you all for helping Elijah out."

"Please don't call me that," growled Elijah, pushing himself to his feet, slowly and carefully. "But yes…like Lex said, thank you for your aid."

"What were you doing out here on your own anyway?" asked Elena. "Anywhere within half a mile of the Citadel isn't the kind of ground you go walking on your own."

"I was scouting for the Vanguard," growled Elijah, sounding offended. Or maybe his pride had been wounded. "Next thing I knew, an entire battalion of Vex is spawning in, a couple of them get close enough to disarm me…and well, you saw the rest. Those Goblins did a number on me," he then admitted, casting a glance at the scorch marks on his clothing and armour. There had to be at least four marks, from direct hits. It was a miracle he hadn't been killed on the spot.

"You're very lucky, Eli," said the voice of a Ghost painted in turquoise, appearing suddenly at Elijah's shoulder. "It's just as well these other Guardians came along when they did."

"Yes Orrick, we've all figured that out, thank you very much," derided Arvo. "But anyway, we shouldn't stay here any longer. No idea when more Vex will show up."

"Agreed," Lex responded, glancing at the members of Fireteam Onyx. "We can get him back to the Tower, and the medics should be able to patch him up from there."

"Sounds good," nodded Logan. "See you in the field again, sometime."

"Sure you will," said Lex, and then several seconds later each of them was gone, consumed in a burst of whit light as they transmatted back into orbit. The members of Fireteam Onyx glanced around at the devastation they stood among.

"Well, that was unexpected," Griff said, finally tossing away the splintered trunk he'd been wielding as a weapon.

"What was?" asked Garl, materialising out of nowhere.

"Coming to another Guardian's aid like this," the Titan replied, casting a hand around the clearing, littered with Vex pieces, and shattered and smouldering trees and undergrowth, splashed with white fluid. "The Vanguard drill into us the importance of staying close to your fireteam. And this Elijah guy wasn't only out here on his own -so close to the Citadel – he took on an army of Vex with just a blade. What the hell was he thinking? It would have better for him to pull back, use his abilities, wait for his teammates to find him."

"Maybe he's new to this game," suggested Elena, but Logan wasn't particularly listening, as he stared at the splashes of white fluid, and the Vex bodies which had been felled with a single clean stroke or well-aimed thrust to their core unit. There had to be a nearly thirty of them, maybe even more. What this Elijah lacked in common sense, he more than made up for it with his skill with a blade.

"Logan?"

"Hm?" Logan replied, looking up into Kal's questioning gaze.

"I said what should we do next? You still want to patrol for a little while longer or what?"

"Nah, I think we're good now," Logan responded, then glanced at the others. "What about you two?"

"Hey, we're good," Griff answered with a shrug of his armoured shoulders. "Lead the way, boss."

* * *

Back at the Tower, curiosity bought Logan into the clinic, towards a lone room occupied by the hot headed Hunter who had stood against an army of Vex and cleaved through many of them like they were nothing. Elijah was laid up on one of the medical cots in one of the many stark white rooms they maintained there, garbed in white while his visitor sat beside him. It was a human female, with pale skin and short hair as black as night.

She turned as Logan stopped in the doorway, and he got a look at her pale blue eyes, and then her lips were tilting upwards in a quizzical little smile as she realised who he was in an instant. "I was waiting for one of you to come along. I got the impression you were all a little concerned for our fearless leader here," she continued, indicating Elijah. As she spoke, Logan detected the sing-song nature of her tone, likely a regional dialect from where she had originally been born.

Elijah was an Awoken, with ash grey skin and glittering blue eyes that while not as fierce as Griff's yellow orbs, still contained a core of steel which was currently projecting a fairly spiky edge at Logan, annoyed at this intrusion into his recovery space. He was stripped to the waist, the white medical dressings covering his wounds a stark contrast against the dull grey tone of his flesh, and the black tattoos which he wore all across his torso and stomach.

"Stop it," he groaned, rolling his eyes and looking over towards the plate glass window.

"That's his way of saying thank you, I think."

"I was a little concerned, I admit," Logan responded, "seeing a Guardian going up against a horde of Vex with just his blade," he continued, indicating towards the heavy kukri propped up in the corner. It had been cleaned and polished since Venus, but Logan could still detect the faint hints of Vex fluid on the tempered steel. Otherwise, there wasn't a single mark or blemish on it. Whoever had forged that blade had done an admirable job.

"I told you, I lost my weapons. I didn't have much of an option," Eli bit back. "And besides, I don't need a stranger coming in here telling me how to be a Guardian. I'm sure I can figure that out myself."

There were a few beats of silence, until the female broke them. "Alexa," she introduced, "but everyone calls me Lex."

"Logan," he responded, still looking at Elijah. "And Griff and Elena-3, you've already met. Fireteam Onyx, in total."

"Opal," Elijah said. "Our Fireteam name, that is. Arvo is the third of our group, who you've already seen. But Arvo isn't exactly a very social one, so he entrusted me to the very capable medics and took his leave to further his research."

"I see," Logan said.

"Is there anything else we can help you with?" Elijah snapped suddenly, the bite in his words sharp and clear. "Because I'd like to finish up my recovery in peace and quiet."

"I'll go, soon as I've said what I want to say," Logan replied coolly, which resulted in an annoyed sound from the back of Elijah's throat and a look away, before Lex answered for him.

"Alright, fine. Go ahead."

"Thank you," said Logan, then looked at Eli again. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Long enough to know which way to aim my weapons and shoot."

"Don't be cute. You know what I mean."

"Fine," groaned Elijah. "We've been at this for a month in total, all of us."

"Alright, fine," Logan relented, "so you know how things generally work as a Guardian, fine. But if you want to last longer than a month out there in the wild, then you need to drop the damned attitude and take things a little easier."

Elijah shifted around in his cot and sat upright, his face flaring bright pink with barely contained fury. "Now you hold on just a damned"-

Logan just cut him off as he continued. "Let me finish. You know damn well that if me and the rest of my fireteam hadn't been in the area those Vex would have killed you, and you didn't have anyone in immediate range for a revive either. They would have smashed your Ghost against a tree and just left your bones there to rot. No more revives, bye bye Light blessing."

A tense silence for a few seconds. Then, Elijah's Ghost slowly materialised at the Awoken's shoulder. "He's right, Eli. I wouldn't have had the time to manage it myself." In response, its master let out a disgusted growl and looked away. He knew he was in the wrong.

"So if you want some advice, I'm right here," Logan continued.

"I don't need my hand holding," Elijah growled.

"And I don't intend to," Logan countered, "but I can certainly show you the ropes for the finer points of a Guardian's work. And I can be there to pull you out of the fire if needs be. In absolute emergencies, obviously. Think on it, at least."

With that, Logan turned and began to take his leave, until a voice called out to him. "Logan, wait."

"Yeah?" he said, looking back at Elijah.

"Call me Eli," the Awoken said. "I know Elijah is the name I can remember, but I hate the full version. So call me Eli, alright? That's my main condition."

"Sure."

"And don't think I'll just come running to you all the time, either!"

"Wouldn't count on it."

* * *

 **Present day…**

And Eli, true to his word, hadn't come running to Logan constantly. But he was always there, on the periphery of Onyx's daily activities, to aid them as necessary. He remembered the first time both Fireteams had pooled their resources together to head into the depths of Vex territory to find a Gate Lord to claims its head, and Logan had been glad for the aid back then: it would have been a much more difficult battle without Opal's aid. And that partnership had escalated to them delving into the Vault of Glass, and become the first Guardians to return in one piece from its depths as well. And it had only strengthened from there as they faced the House of Wolves, and then the Taken and their vengeful king.

At the core of the arrangement was the relationship between the three Hunters. While Logan and Eli were generally quiet, cold and distant even, Alexa could always be relied upon to brighten their spirits with her relentless optimism and her willingness to smile at the drop of a hat. She helped to buoy the spirits of all six of them, even at the darkest times, such as when the news of Oryx and the Taken's arrival became common knowledge, and a black cloud hung over their immediate future.

Logan appreciated her for that optimism, as well as her cool head in a battle and her lethal accuracy with throwing knives. And Eli potentially appreciated her for more than that; Logan knew that he was in love with her, or at least he thought he did. As for Logan himself, he never saw her in that light. Anytime he looked at his calloused, weathered hands shorn of gloves and armour, he save the light band of skin around his left ring finger. Elena told him one time that meant he wore a ring there once; a ring which meant he was promised to someone else, and them to him in turn. He couldn't recall who that person was, but they must have been important. And he felt that dull ache in the centre of his being whenever he glanced at his empty finger.

But now Alexa was gone, and it had all crumbled. With the Planet Crackers on the verge of launching an assault on the city, they all could have done with that optimism now more than ever, but it wasn't to be.

With a low sigh, he pressed his gloved hand against Alexa's memorial stone and ran his palm across her engraved name. "Logan," said Kal over his shoulder as the Ghost materialised. "Logan, I'm sorry to interrupt, but the others are looking for you. They've been hailing you for the past twenty minutes."

"Tell them I'm heading to the usual spot," Logan shot back bitterly, ripped out of his reverie so suddenly. Then he looked back to the memorial and pressed his forehead against it. "I wish you were here, Lex. We could do with your strength for what's coming."

"But she isn't here, is she Logan?"

Logan looked to see Eli standing just a few yards away, his stare boring right through Logan's very being. Taking a deep breath, Logan pushed himself up straight, then turned and walked away without another word. "And you know whose fault it is, don't you?" Eli called out to Logan's back, but the former was already marching up the steps out of the gardens. Eli started at Logan's retreating back for a few seconds more, and then he walked to Lex's memorial and crouched before it.

"I know Lex," he sighed, "I know I shouldn't, especially not now...but too much has changed. We can't go back to how things were beforehand...we just can't."


	15. Invasion

**Chapter 14: Invasion**

For the next few days, it was back to business as usual, save for the impending threat of an imminent Cabal attack hanging over the heads of the Vanguard and everyone else in the loop. In the meantime, they maintained their patrols of Old London, pushing back the Planet Crackers as best they could and delving into still-intact Golden Age facilities and buildings as they found them, with a particular focus around the _Watson Cybernetics_ building.

Elena also kept her promise to return to the sheltered Warmind Albert, returning to its underground vault and conversing with it on all manner of subjects and trivia related to the Golden Age, which the AI was only too happy to inform her on. She'd sit in front of its main console, legs crossed, for hours at a time, filling data slate after data slate with her notes. Logan, Griff and Fireteam Opal meanwhile, busied themselves up on street level, wiping out squads of Planet Cracker troops as they pushed onwards.

But they just didn't have the numbers they had initially, since their first cruiser had been scuttled. But they were still pushing back as hard as they could manage, digging in in other cases and holding ground until death. Which often meant a hell of a lot more effort from the Guardians to dislodge them.

And as for Mars, there had been total radio silence for three days now.

"Maybe they've gone to ground, on the run," suggested Griff at one point as they stopped to resupply in a dark side street, choked with the bleached bones of Old London's former residents.

"Or maybe they're all dead," Arvo said, blunt as always.

"Well I hope not, because I know a few of the Fireteam leaders up there," Eli responded, sat on the bonnet of a rusted car as he resupplied his empty magazine pouches. "Too tough to just roll over and die."

"Well, did they ever have the full force of a Cabal Legion coming down on their heads?" Arvo countered. "I thought not. The Tower hasn't seen a Cabal offensive this significant since they first came to Mars."

And that was the end of the conversation, even though Logan and Eli kept glancing up towards the sky every now and then, their thoughts turning to their friends, far, far away.

* * *

 **City of Freehold, Mars**

Even though Batou and Lucius had drawn up the Fireteams under their command into a solid defence against the Cabal, there was simply far too many of them, and far too few Guardians to make up the difference. With ammunition running low and a steadily rising tally of fallen Guardians, they had fallen back in the face of an unstoppable, alien force that scoured Mars before them.

And now hundreds of hulking alien brutes occupied the city streets, junctions and corners, hunting down the last resistance on the planet. But they would prove to be disappointed, again and again in the near future. For far below their feet – in what remained of Freehold's public transport system – the remaining Fireteams under Batou and Lucius were lying low, waiting for the right time to strike.

They only had six Fireteams left between them. Eighteen Guardians left, from a starting force of nearly forty. The rest of them had been left back up at street level, their Light drained and their Ghosts destroyed beyond repair, smashed open against walls or pried apart and cannibalised by Psions. And of those six Fireteams, most of them were composites, formed from the survivors of those teams nearly destroyed outright or with their numbers depleted, to ensure they remained at full cohesion. Even Batou himself found his trusted Hunter, Wesley, replaced by a less experienced stranger he'd barely known for two days.

"It's only a matter of time until they start to check the tunnels," rasped Lucius-19, a veteran Hunter who was also Batou's closest friend and confidant. "We shouldn't wait in one spot for too long."

"I'm aware of that fact, thank you Lucius," Bartou responded, his helmet visor scanning the tunnels in shades of green. They were currently bedded down in a dark generator room off one of the underground's junction rooms, the train cars sitting dark and silent, with piles of red sand trailing down from the ceiling. "Just let them have two more minutes. We've been fighting non-stop for two days."

"You think they're faring any better back on Earth?" Lucius then asked, changing the subject on a dime spin.

"I seriously doubt it," sighed Batou. "But we survived the Taken, we can survive this."

"I certainly hope so," Lucius said, rising to his feet and walking past Batou, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he passed, "because I have an Armsday token to hand in." Batou smiled in response, then looked back towards the other Guardians gathered in that space, all of them bone-weary and barely functioning, even with their Ghosts administering stimulants to their systems to keep them going. They'd have to find sustenance sooner or later.

"Incoming," whispered the voice of Batou's Ghost – Ash – in his ear, and Batou glanced up to see one of the shadows at the side of the junction room detach from the wall and scurry towards him, and he realised it was one of their Hunters, Redmayne. He'd been off scouting for the last twenty minutes, and Batou had only just realised that fact.

"See anything?" asked Batou gruffly, looking down at the smaller Redmayne.

"Nothing much, but the Cabal are close. I can hear them grunting from down here. Only a matter of time until one of them thinks to take a look down here."

"Alright, guess it's time to go," Batou replied, looking back as the others rose to their feet slowly, sluggishly. They just wanted it all to be over. "Okay people, we're on the move again. With those ugly lumps up there, we can't afford to stay in one place for too long, so we're keeping mobile as much as we can. But I assure you, any chance we get, we're kicking them in the teeth. Not just for us, but for everyone who gave their Light to hold them back. I can promise you that much."

They said nothing in reply. They just didn't have the energy.

* * *

 **The Last City, Earth**

The rain came before the attack.

On the northern wall of the City – far above the bustling markets and habitats below – where the remaining defence cannons and Skyfire defences were being tended to by Fireteams of Guardians. They'd been watching the horizon for the last few days, the Vanguard themselves having made it abundantly clear what was coming, and they tended to their duty with a grim acceptance of the fact the City was on the verge of utter destruction.

The sun was starting to come up when the spotters noticed dark clouds gathering on the horizon, swollen with moisture and fit to burst. And then, after no less than twenty minutes, they burst, dropping a deluge of heavy, thick drops across the blasted plains. Of course, the immense storm on the approach to the City had been a constant feature of the plains on this part of the world since the Collapse, it had never turned as black as night, crackling with thunder. Observation teams on the wall sent the footage onto the Vanguard Hall.

"In all my time as a Guardian, it's never done that," observed Cayde, leaning hard against his side of the table.

"That storm's raged ever since the Collapse," Ikora Ray replied evenly, staring at the holographic image, "and we can thank the Fallen for that. But's it been stable ever since then, so for so sudden a change to come…"

"The only time we've experienced such dramatic atmospheric changes is from a space vessel entering our atmosphere rapidly," Zavala added, "so the only explanation for this is…"

"We're about to have someone knocking on our door," Cayde finished. Even as he did, they could see the specks resolving from inside of the storm. Zavala rapidly opened the general comms channel that crossed the entire city.

"All defenders, prepare for imminent attack! I repeat, prepare for imminent attack from the North!"

* * *

Sirens blared all across the City. Down in the markets and habitats, the population gathered up their children and their other valuables, and disappeared inside of underground bunkers, to hopefully ride out the attack undetected and undisturbed. Most of the people had no idea what the hell was going on: in all their lives within the walls, they had never experienced something like this before. It was inconceivable that anyone or anything could breach the walls: not since Twilight Gap. The population had grown complacent. Few alive could remember what it was like back then.

Soon as the people were secured away, the Frame Militia rushed to their designated points. Though the basic support Frame was nowhere as sophisticated as an Exo unit, they were capable enough to take a weapon and hold a position until their complete destruction, so squads of them spread out and took up position at street junctions, inside reinforced homes, and at choke points.

Back up on the wall, the Guardians posed there readied themselves for what was to come, while they struggled to get the remaining defence cannons at the correct angle to fire from. Their rusted gears squealed loudly as they steadily lowered the huge barrels down to an almost ninety degree angle, and spotters called out firing solutions. Elsewhere, the automated skyfire defences would hopefully swat the remainder of the Cabal forces out of the sky as they came closer. But that was a big if: those defences, installed after the battle of Twilight Gap, had never been tested in the field since then.

At the heart of the Cabal fleet was the second cruiser which had been absent from London – proud, sleek and brutal all at the same time, prowling ahead at low speed, but it was still fast enough for it to grow closer and closer to the City by the second. Ahead of it advanced a trio of vessels which resembled upscaled Harvesters, their wings underslung with huge cannons, and then a swarm of Harvesters flew ahead of all that, eager to be the first to deploy their living cargo into the fight.

Even though many of the Guardians manning the wall were storied veterans, even they found themselves shaken by the sight. Most of their standard weaponry couldn't even hope to scratch Cabal deck plating, so what chance did their cannons have against this swarm?

"Enemy fleet almost within range," crackled the voice of a support Frame back in the Vanguard Hall, "prepare to commence bombardment."

* * *

Deep in the bowels of the City's Guardian Quarters, a lone Hunter sat cross-legged within his modestly-furnished room, his hands rested on his knees, eyes closed, his breaths coming slow and deep. He'd been that way for the last few minutes, when the call from Zavala had first gone out.

"Logan," said Griff, appearing in the doorway. "It's almost time. They're within range of the wall guns now."

"You really think those guns will help us?" Logan asked, his eyes still closed, breathing out slowly and carefully through his mouth.

"Who knows," shrugged Griff. "I've never seen one of them in action before, but we all know how tough Cabal deck plating is."

"I know," replied Logan, taking one last breath and slowly rising to his feet, turning to the mannequin which was holding his Dustwalker armour set. As he did, Kal suddenly emerged from thin air.

"Logan, the wall guns are starting their barrage."

"Well I guess we should get to it," Logan answered, reaching for his gear.

* * *

The old cannons turned out to be useful, to a certain extent.

The grinding of rusted gears and cogs had worried the Guardians manning them, but thankfully the guns had generally fired straight with a great rolling boom and a flash that briefly overloaded the helmet visors of the Guardians standing in the vicinity. The first two fired more or less at the same time, aimed at the lead Harvester in the swarm. Both shells hit the craft dead on, but while the first shell detonated against the top of the Harvester's fuselage and seemingly did little, the second impacted against a spot beneath the craft's cockpit area, on the junction of two welded armour plates.

Whether there was just a weak spot there or some old battle damage, the blast essentially tore open the Harvester's bodywork like a tin can, before something flammable further along the fuselage was touched off, and a great gout of flame and black smoke belched from its bodywork, before it began to rapidly lose altitude, rapidly plummeting down towards the ground, trailing smoke and fire. The defenders didn't cheer though, as they knew there was far more to come.

The other cannons continued firing into the swarm, as fast as their crews could manage – which translated to around a single round a minute, as even the Guardians with their enhanced physiology struggled to work the aging cannon's workings. A few of them outright refused to work as their gears finale seized up, lousy from wear and general decay, leaving bands of Guardians cursing in annoyance as they tried to get them working again, with the aid of Support Frames. And all the while, the Cabal fleet drew closer, explosions sparking off the plating of their ships or around them as the Harvesters ducked and banked. Two more of the craft took direct hits though, and began to drop out of sight.

Then, the underslung cannons of the three mid-sized craft began to light up, building up energy like the plasma cannons of Goliath tanks.

" _Incoming!"_ screamed one of the veteran Guardians when he realised what was coming, and then everyone within earshot ducked themselves down as low as they could manage, behind whatever solid cover they could find, aside form the guns – they would be too obvious a target. Then with a piercing whine, the plasma cannons fired, sending a pair of glowing stars of purple energy right at them.

Just before impact, the shield's energy walls ignited.

There was a sharp scent of ozone as the plasma stars burst against the invisible shielding, which then promptly crackled with blue lightning as they held, just about. Down below, the huge generators powering the shields were seriously overtaxed, and the smell of burnt metal permeated the generator rooms. Luckily, the Frames tending to the generators were unaffected by the heat and the sparks.

"Damn, the shields in that sector nearly dropped!" Cayde cursed, back in the Vanguard Hall, as support Frames and other Guardians moved to and fro, heading off to battle or lingering to see if they could aid the Vanguard further.

"Too many hits like that and those shields may as well be wet tissue paper," Ikora added.

"They'll hold," insisted Zavala, "they have to. Our best minds slaved for years on them after Twilight Gap specifically so that battle wouldn't repeat itself."

"Well that was the Fallen, Zavala," Cayde replied, "this is the Cabal. They have much bigger guns."

The live feeds showed the gun crews working as fast as they could to load and fire the old cannons, but they were still struggling with the old, rusted wrecks. Cayde made a clucking sound in the back of his throat and turned away from the feeds, striding purposefully towards the main doors. "Cayde!" called out Zavala, but the Hunter Vanguard kept walking, calling out over his shoulder.

"I'm no good here, Zavala. Maybe it's high past time that I actually step outside this hall and do some good. And besides, we all know those Harvesters that go down in front of the walls will be spitting out live Cabal cargo. And someone will have to lead the advance to go after them."

And then he was gone, as the remaining two leaders turned to face the live feeds again, some of them showing the plains outside of the wall, where the Harvesters had gone down, or were setting down of their own volition. They were opening their doors and unleashing Cabal in the colours of the Planet Crackers. Zavala let out a quiet sigh as he leaned on the table top, hoping that their defences would be enough.

* * *

The cannons took down another two Harvesters, but by then the other ships were close enough to deploy their own tricks. The cruiser itself surely held weaponry capable of great destruction, but it hadn't fired any of them yet. Instead, it had another trick to pull, as huge hatches on either side of its prow opened, revealing the yawning gaps of huge tubes, three on each side.

"What is that?" called out a Hunter called Baron, acting as a spotter for one of the gun crews.

"Who the hell cares?! Keep firing!" called out his companion, the Warlock Tarn. Less than ten seconds later – after their cannon had fired once again – the tubes on the cruiser fired. But instead of munitions, they launched these great spherical objects, each made of the same ubiquitous deck plating that armoured Cabal ships. And they fired them _fast_.

"Brace for impact!" was all one of the other spotters managed to get out before the first of these spheres smashed into the top of the wall with enough force to shear off the concrete lip, sending shards of it flying in every direction, fast enough to take someone's head off at the shoulders. One Guardian reacted a little too slow and a chunk of cement struck him right in the faceplate of his visor, snapping his head right back, leaving him to drop like a puppet with its strings cut onto the ground, as other Guardians ran in to perform a revive.

"Back up, back up!" yelled a Titan as the casing of the nearest sphere suddenly ejected away, and a single Cabal Legionnaire pulled its way free from the suspension rig inside, holding it upright on its rapid journey prior to rapid deployment. All across the wall top, Legionnaires were tearing themselves free from their spheres with the vigour of an invading army which had got its foot in the door, so to speak, and was eager to make the most of that advantage.

The Guardians clustered around the gun positions quickly found themselves on the back foot, driven back in a sudden hail of slug fire, even as more heavy fire from the other ships began to pound against the energy shield, tongues of blue energy crackling and forking across its surface as it rippled in the face of such destructive power. All the while, the Harvester fleets drew closer and closer, until they were finally within range of the City's Skyfire defences.

Next thing the Cabal knew was a sudden streak as beams of blue light shot out from concealed positions within the wall, reaching out and scoring across the plating of the leading Harvesters. Cabal hull plating was known for being almost impenetrable, but these beams scoured deep, blackened trenches across the nosecone of the lead Harvester, before moving across its body and then suddenly shearing off its left wing abruptly, sending it spiralling to the ground below. More and more beams lashed out as they found range, and in short order three more Harvesters were plummeting into the ground far below.

Back on the wall, there was a sharp cracking retort and one of the Legionnaires lurched back, its head gone in a puff of purple. As its body crashed onto its back, a dozen Guardians fanned out across the wall, giving aid to their comrades. Leading them – a twist of smoke curling up from the barrel of a handcannon with pearlescent inlaid in its grip – was Cayde-6, his hood pulled back and something approaching a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Oh yeah, I've missed this," he said to himself, before sudden movement out the corner of his eye compelled him to turn and fire his handcannon purely on reflex, shattering another Cabal skull like an eggshell. As the huge corpse tumbled away, he looked around at the shell-shocked Guardians surrounding him. "What's the matter, you never seen a crazy handsome Exo pull off a shot like that? Save the gawking for later, and right now, let's show these Cabal what the City can do!"

* * *

"I've tapped into the Vanguard's feeds. Sounds like…Cayde's joined the fight?" Kal's disbelief was plain to hear.

"Good old Cayde finally got sick of standing next to that table, I guess," Griff rumbled.

"Good for him," Logan added.

This conversation was taking place as Fireteam Onyx sprinted through the cramped markets and streets of the City, towards the main gates set within the northern part of the wall while above them, all hell was breaking loose as the Cabal pummelled the wall defenders with cannon fire and Cabal foot soldiers transported in peculiar spheres fired from their main cruiser. It sounded pretty bad, even with the Skyfire defences and the old cannons dropping a good third of the Harvester swarm. That left plenty more which were descending to ground level, readying for a land offensive.

"Sounds like they're hard pushed up there," Elena added as Scarlett bobbed at her shoulder. "We should be up there, pushing the Cabal back."

"Cayde and Elijah are up there," Logan countered as he rounded a corner, skidding a little and then kept running, barely slowing down. "They'll be fine, trust me. We should worry about them breaching the main gates."

"Which they'll do with ease if that Cruiser fires its main weapons," Griff conceded.

* * *

Another Legionnaire crashed over onto its back as Cayde blew the contents of its skull out the back of its helmet, then he dropped into a crouch behind its dead weight, snapping open the cylinder on his handcannon and dumping the spent casings. Despite the sheer storm of noise going on around him as Legionnaires fell, transport spheres slammed into the wall and disgorged their cargo and the staccato hammering of gunfire on both sides; all of Cayde's artificial senses were firing on overload. Lord, he had missed _this_.

"We've lost another gun!" cried Elijah as Cabal airship fire completely eradicated one of the cannons from its position, along with the Guardians that had been manning it. Three morsels of Light, snuffed out in an instant. With a thunderous scowl beneath his helmet, Elijah swerved back to avoid the crackling solar blade of a Legionnaire that had rushed him suddenly, then he spun past, seemingly to barely touch it, but his kukri had severed both hamstrings, and the beast went down, wailing, before a quick burst from the Messanger finished it off.

He paused long enough to consider the approaching Cabal vessels. The shield wall was barely keeping itself ignited in the face of a stinging bombardment of plasma beams and immense cannon shells which hammered against it again and again. The skyfire defences continued to lick out at the closest ships, but the larger ones seemed to have some form of shielding capacity, and most of the blue beams dissipated with cracks and tongues of white lightning across the surface of said shielding. Black smoke belched into the sky from those Harvesters which had been downed so far. For the first time that Elijah could recall, the skies around the City had been choked by conflict.

He wondered if had been this bad during Twilight Gap.

He heard an alien bellow, and he turned as a pair of Legionnaires bore down on him, their slug rifles swinging up to fire. He dropped the first with two rapid bursts to its stomach, then switched aim to the second just as a blur of motion slammed into it. The slug rifle went off and gouged a chunk out of the concrete beside Elijah's foot, before the Legionnaire was driven to its knees and had its neck violently broken.

"Pay attention," chided Sasha as she glanced back at Elijah, taking up the Red Death. He just clicked his tongue and looked away, just as a warning was practically screamed across the general comms.

" _INCOMING!"_

It had been Cayde, which gave Elijah a brief pause: he wasn't even aware that Cayde could raise his voice that high when needed. Then he looked to the horizon and saw the Cabal cruiser lighting up its main weapons, positioned either side of its prow. He saw the bright blue energy building up, like those of a much-larger Goliath cannon. In an instant he knew the shield wall – or indeed anything else for that matter – wouldn't be able to withstand such a blast.

Cursing, he turned and ran for the far end of the wall, where he already saw Sasha throwing herself into cover alongside many other Guardians, any bit of cover they could find which might – just might – save their lives. He'd just about got his head down underneath the wall's concrete lip by the time there was a pair of immense flashes over his shoulder, like a pair of miniature suns burning out in an instant.

Then the huge cannons fired.

* * *

Logan just had the main gates into the City in sight just as he saw this immense flash of light from outside of the walls, and then a plasma bolt the size of a Fallen Servitor Prime drove into the outside of the plasteel-reinforced structure, disintegrating it in an instant. There was a great noise of impact, and then a shock wave was thrown out from the point of impact. Those Frames and Guardians standing too close to the gates were engulfed by a rolling tide of plasma and debris, incinerated in a single flash. Even at such extreme range from the site of impact, Logan, Elena and the others were thrown off of their feet by the shock wave when it reached them.

They were slammed into the wall of the building behind them, the air nearly crushed out of their lungs, and then unceremoniously dropped onto their faces. Logan's ears were ringing – even through the dampeners of his helmet – and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Then he dimly became aware that Kal was flying in front of his face, his single eye opened wide in concern.

"-side, Logan!"

"What?!" Logan yelled.

"I said they're inside, Logan! The Planet Crackers are inside the City!"

"What?" he cried in disbelief. "How?!"

"Shield's down!" cried Griffin, suddenly catching Logan by the shoulder and hauling him upright like the Hunter weighed nothing at all. Logan looked to the sky, and he saw the imposing shape of a Cabal ship pass overhead, along with streaks of tracer fire. The shield wall was down. A single blast from the cruiser's cannons had overloaded them in an instant. The battle had suddenly turned from a manageable affair to a borderline rout. And to top it all off, the main gates were gone too, and now he could hear the bellowing war cries of the Cabal foot soldiers as they drew near.

"Damn it," he groaned, as his senses began to reassert themselves. "And we haven't even fired a shot in anger yet."

"Well that's about to change," growled Arvo from beside Logan. The latter wasn't entirely sure where Arvo had come from, but apparently, he'd been in the accommodation block at the same time as the others, and when the klaxons had sounded, he came running alongside the rest of the Guardians who had come pouring out onto the streets, too eager to get into the fight to let the rest of his Fireteam know where he was at the time. But then again, there was little time for anything else save for running into battle.

"Here they come!" yelled someone, and sure enough streaks of slug fire began to pierce through the swirling black smoke which choked where the doors had once stood. A few valiant Frames were smashed off of their feet as they stood their ground and continued firing. Logan and the others took up firing positions behind one of the hastily-erected barricades, with the Hunter preparing his sniper rifle as he saw the shapes of Cabal approaching through the smog.

"Welcome to our City," he muttered, firing.

* * *

With the shield wall down, the Cabal fleet had no compunctions over pummelling the City with their powerful weaponry, as streaks of boiling plasma and hard cannon rounds as large as a Colossus levelled entire tower blocks, great plumes of dust and debris thrown up into the sky with every building levelled, and fires began to spread through the tightly-packed streets. Support Frames rushed to douse these blazes with their foam-spraying hoses and other gear, all the while the Guardian contingent struggled to hold back the Planet Cracker assault.

It was akin to pushing water uphill with their bare hands.

"Get off the wall!" Cayde was crying, his excitable demeanour largely weathered away in the face of the Cabal assault. Even more transport spheres were crunching into the wall every minute, and at least three dozen Guardians had been lost forever, their Ghosts crushed beneath Legionnaire's heavy boots or picked apart by the psi-blasts of Psions. The Hunter Vanguard fired off the remainder of his current cylinder, then ducked away as a trio of slug rounds passed overhead. Eli and Sasha were standing at the head of the transport elevator, waving their fellow Guardians to them, and a ragtag band of battered, dusty Hunters, Warlocks and Titans hurried to escape.

The air suddenly heated up, and Cayde triggered his Golden Gun, blasting apart a handful of Legionnaires who then promptly exploded as if blasted apart with rockets, but it was just an overload of solar energy tearing them apart at the molecular level. Then Cayde was throwing himself inside of the elevator and hammering the controls, shutting the doors and dropping them fast towards ground level.

"Now what?" asked a shell-shocked looking Baron, crushed in tightly with his fellow Guardians like sardines in a can. They didn't even have room to check or reload their weapons.

"Now, we get back to ground level and go from there," Cayde responded, his usual levity largely gone from his tone. "Pull back, reinforce the secondary defence lines. We can't risk the Planet Crackers getting too close to the emergency shelters where the people are hiding. Then we hold that line, no matter what."

"Against all of that?" asked Eli, pointing up towards the sky, or more specifically towards the top of the wall they had just descended from.

"No matter what," Cayde repeated, "I didn't come out of retirement just to let the City fall in a single day! It would be a very poor ending to my saga, after all."

"You have a saga?" asked Tarm, half-crushed into the wall, managing to just about look back over his shoulder.

"No," Cayde replied, "but I plan to one day."

"Well then," chuckled Eli, "I guess we better not let the City fall until then." The laugh was taken up by a few of the other Guardians, but far too few of them. They all knew they'd just taken a pounding, and it wasn't going to get any better. Just as well they had scuttled that second cruiser in Old London before today, otherwise they might all be dead by now.

"Cayde! What is your current position?!" demanded Zavala over the comms suddenly, his normal cool demeanour largely absent.

"Coming down from the wall," Cayde responded. "They hammered us pretty hard, Zavala. We had no choice but to give it to them, so I'm leading the kids back into the City, hopefully we can hold them back for a bit longer."

"It won't do us much good unless we clear the Cabal's ships away," Zavala replied, "with the shield wall down they've got free reign to devastate the City!"

"What about the Traveller?!" Eli shouted, having to raise his voice to be heard.

"They're not targeting the Traveller at all, even though they have a clean shot," Ikora Ray announced suddenly. "They want to take it from us. The ultimate humiliation and the ultimate defeat, all rolled into one."

"Well that's one thing at least," Cayde grumbled, rolling his eyes before noticing that they had almost reached the ground. "Alright kids, get ready to make a run for safety and shoot all the bad guys at the same time! If you're good at multitasking, then you'll excel here!"

Then they hit the ground and the doors swept open, and they all tumbled out, hearing the shrieks of Cabal munitions screaming overhead, demolishing buildings and anything else they touched into rubble. There was another massive flash somewhere outside the wall, and then the ground shook.

"There goes another piece of the wall," sighed Cayde, as he began to wave the Guardians back into the City, towards the Tower and the defensive positions that had been prepared while they had been fighting up on the wall. The wall guns may have been lost, but the fight wasn't over yet, and the skyfire defences were still blazing away, sheltered deep within the concrete, needing to be dug out to be destroyed outright.

"Going to be a long day," Sasha said suddenly.

"And getting longer," Eli added. "And where the hell is Arvo?"

* * *

Arvo was down in the main plaza that lead into the City, alongside at least fifty Guardians who were frantically trying to hold back the Planet Cracker's advance. Even though dozens of slain Legionnaires, Phalanxes and more littered the ruined, cracked concrete ground, more and more kept coming, pushing their way through a literal wall of their own dead. In the early parts of the brawl – it was far too organised to be considered a 'proper' battle – the Cabal had powered a pair of Goliath tanks right up into the entrance of the plaza, collapsing half the surrounding wall in the process and then pummelling those buildings they could reach with their main cannons. Both vehicles were smoking wrecks by now, but before then the Guardians had bene driven right back to the edge of the plaza, separated from their Fireteams and often forced into fighting their own, desperate battles.

In one area, Hecaton swore as a barrage of slug fire raked his position, tearing apart the façade of the building behind him. He blindly tossed a grenade over the lip of his cover and was rewarded by a crump of the explosive going off and the lessening of the enemy fire. Then he swung up and fired his rifle in short, sharp bursts, tearing open skulls and piercing hearts.

Elsewhere, the Titan Sylas fought with only his bare hands, smashing down Psions with great backhanded blows, clubbing Legionnaires to their knees and then crushing their skulls within his gauntlets, kicking out at some of them, breaking bone and shattering armour with each blow. All the while, tracer fire from both sides sliced by on either side of them, and overhead. The noise was incredible. He could barely think, barely process what he was seeing beyond the immediate four feet surrounding him. He snapped the neck of another Legionnaire, just as a Centurion suddenly landed hard a few feet away, bringing up its rifle to fire.

Then the one-horned figure of Lord Shaxx slammed into it from the side, bowling the massive alien over, before stepping in and smashing its faceplate in with a single short, sharp kick. Sylas looked to the figure long enough to offer them a short nod of thanks, then ran to retrieve his weapons.

"Remember," Lord Shaxx called out as he pulled out his shotgun and racked a shell, "we are Guardians – we are never defeated, no matter the odds!"

 _Easy for you to say,_ thought Logan bitterly, from his nearby position. The piece of wall he'd been taking cover behind had dwindled to barely wide enough to shield him from he oncoming onslaught, but it was better than thin air. Around his feet were discarded cans of special ammo syntheses, his entire supply which he had burned through in next to no time while a fog of concrete dust swirled all around. Not even Oryx himself had been this much of a challenge.

They were as good as dead, he knew that. Any of them knew that. But on they fought, to the bitter end. It was just what Guardians did.

"Logan!" Kal practically shouted into Logan's ear. "I've…I've got that lock on Griff and Elena's positions!"

"Well, where are they?!" Logan yelled back, as a slug round tore through the concrete just beside his left ear, and he flinched away, before blind tossing a grenade over his shoulder.

"Griff's over your left shoulder, about fifty yards," Kal explained, before Logan's motion tracker was pinged with a green dot, surrounded by a lot of red, angry enemy signatures. "He's holding his own, just about. But there's too many Cabal for him to tackle alone."

"I gathered that already, thank you!" Logan cried. "Get on the horn to him, tell him to get back to the main line before we get separated! I'm not running the risk of losing anymore friends today!"

"Will do," Kal replied. "And Elena's over your right shoulder…right on the edge of our battle lines, with Arvo. At this rate, they're about a minute away from being cut off from the rest of us." A second green dot pinged on Logan's tracker, and to his relief he saw that Elena wasn't surrounded yet.

"Tell her to get her ass back here too," Logan ordered, leaning up out of cover and firing a few shots into the swirling madness of the fight. He must have hit something at least, as he heard a pained bellow, but he couldn't be sure whether he'd dropped any of the hulking brutes.

* * *

Elena couldn't hear Kal's demands though, from where she was crouched behind her own personal pile of rubble which was rapidly being degraded by constant slug fire. A dust cloud engulfed her position and that of Arvo's beside her, a few scant feet away. Her fellow Warlock seemed to be having some sort of mini-meltdown: she could hear him muttering and cursing inside of his helmet, even as he frantically reloaded his pulse rifle, scrambling around at the ammo synthesis tins around his feet for one that was still full.

But she wasn't exactly in any better of a position herself, she realised. Her fusion rifle and missile launcher were empty, and she barely had any handcannon rounds left. She was down to one final ammo synthesis tin as well, saving it for the absolute last moment she would need it. And she still hadn't charged enough for a Nova Bomb either.

"Arvo!" she called out desperately, but he either didn't hear her or just ignored her entirely. _"Arvo!"_ she cried again, focusing her voice through the comms link instead. "I need some ammo! You got a spare synthesis there?!"

He didn't answer her. He just gave her a scathing look she could feel even beneath his visor, then looked back towards the approaching Cabal, firing his rifle off desperately. She tried again, her voice almost hoarse as she called out to him, and this time she got a snatch of his reply back through the comms link. All she could make out was something along the lines of "-ave my own problems-!" before the line was cut. Biting back a viscous curse, she opened her mouth to say something else.

And then a plasma blast from a Goliath tank slammed into the ground in front of them, annihilating their cover and throwing them both roughly onto their asses. Elena's vision whited out for a few seconds, and her ears rang from the sudden noise. Then aware that Scarlett was yelling into her ears, she rolled onto her side, snatched up her handcannon, and aimed two-handed at the wall of Phalnxes bearing down on her.

Arvo was gone.

* * *

Griffin smashed the Centurion aside with one last might swing of his war hammer, and it crumbled to ashes and scattered across the blasted ground before his solar energy was gone and the heat haze surrounding him vanished in an instant. Griff rushed to Logan's side, even as all around them their fellow Guardians were falling back. They couldn't hold here any longer.

"Logan!" he cried, the exertion in his voice clear as he came up beside the Hunter, who was unloading the current magazine in his scout rifle as he furiously backpedalled out of range, but slug fire continued to chase them, biting chunks out of the walls and the ground.

"Pull back!" Lord Shaxx was bellowing to all those around him. "We will never be truly defeated, my children! But to remain here is folly!"

"Shaxx always spoke sense," Griff said sardonically, but Logan didn't seem to be listening to him, as he scanned the chaos all around them. Griff knew why: he was looking for Elena, who hadn't had a chance to make her way back before the Cabal had pushed in with a Goliath.

"There!" Logan said finally, pointing straight out, towards an advancing wall of Phalaxes. They were focused on a lone figure crouching with a scattering of rubble and dust, firing desperately at them as they bore down at her. She managed to clip one of them in the arm, making it lower its shield enough for her to land a lethal headshot with the familiar spray of purple blood, but it was too little.

 _Where the hell's Arvo?_ Logan thought to himself, remembering that the sarcastic bastard had been beside Elena when they got separated initially. He saw no sign of a body or even a broken Ghost. But then he realised that Elena was the top priority right then.

Her handcannon clicked on empty. It sounded loud, far louder than anything else she had ever heard before, even in the maelstrom she occupied. She lowered it a fraction, staring along its length towards the barrel. It was too little, too late. All the wondrous things she had seen beneath Watson Cybernetics in Old London, a working Warmind in the form of Albert, and she wouldn't get the chance to explore it any further –

The slug fire collapsed her shield in an instant. Another shot crazed the edge of her right shoulder, spinning her around and lifting her up slightly, enough for her back to be painted as an all-too tempting target for the rest of the enemy. The next shot struck her dead on, right between the shoulder blades, cutting straight through her robes, outer plating and her vital innards, bursting out of her chest cavity, coring her in an instant. Tiny pieces of melted plasteel and circuitry scattered across the ground.

She saw Logan and Griff, yards away, just staring at her, at the gaping wound in her torso. They could see right through her and out the other side, at the Phalanxes trudging on to ground what was left of her into the dust. Molten plasteel glowed red hot around the edges of the cavity.

Logan began to run to her, but he was too late. _"Elena!"_ he screamed.

Without a sound, she fell flat on her face.

 **A/N: Well then.**

 **I was glad to finally be able to write about this big battle, even after showing what the Planet Crackers were capable of in the past with the smaller skirmishes in Old London. And this chapter is also pretty long compared to the rest of the story, but there is a lot going on with a full-on attack on the City, so the word count reflects that. And there's also a good old fashioned cliff hangar, for those of you into that kind of thing.**

 **Anyways, R & R as usual, please. All feedback is greatly welcomed. **


	16. Casualties

**Chapter 15: Casualties**

Logan didn't know what happened to him at the time. In hindsight, he realised that in the moment he saw Elena going down, a smoking hole ripped through her torso, that a terrible fury welled up in him, stretching to the extremity of every single limb and digit, right down to the roots of his teeth and right to every single follicle on his scalp. His Light was screaming, frothing, demanding that the Cabal be bought to pay for their transgressions. And it would not be denied.

Logan was pretty sure he was screaming a wordless cry as he dropped his rifle, and in an instant his knife was in his hand. Arc energy erupted across his entire body, broiling and writhing in steady waves. Anyone who looked at him directly saw sunspots in their vision. He slashed wide, sending a wave of energy tearing across the ground. It dipped under the shields of the advancing Phalanxes and tore three of them apart at the molecular level, their ashes and rifles scattering like bone dice. The remainder were scattering like terrified children, totally taken surprise by what had just transpired.

But then Logan was among them in an instant, a crackling bolt of Arc energy flying this way and that, his knife shearing through arms, legs, torsos and necks, the stench of burnt blood polluting the air. All of the Cabal's heavy armour and advanced tech was no match for his burning fury at that moment.

Someone was screaming Logan's name into his comms over and over again, but he ignored it. His rage had narrowed his world view down to just a few scant meters in front of him, and he saw the Legionnaires, Phalanxes and Centurions that he tore through like paper. Dozens of slug rounds chased him, all deflected by his shield or melted by the sheer heat of his Arc energy. Why it didn't tear him apart from the inside was anyone's guess. Some random part of his mind was sure that the Cryptarch's and the warlocks would enjoy trying to work it out for themselves. For now, he just kept on going, kept on killing. He dashed and he darted and he slashed and he stabbed, driving the Planet Crackers back with every incandescent slash.

* * *

" _Logan! Logan!"_

Logan was too far gone to heed Griff's shouts then. In an instant, as though a switch was flicked, he'd been consumed in a wave of arc energy which blazed like a star, and then had proceeded to tear right through the first few ranks of Cabal like they were nothing. And though he still worried for Logan's safety, it meant that his fellow Guardians finally had some breathing room.

"Go on! Get up there! Shore the defences!" Griff screamed at those around him, and after a brief pause a couple of Titan Defenders rushed ahead, dropping their barriers and giving their fellows a safe place to fire from. Soon enough, a hail of tracer fire was pushing back those Cabal outside of Logan's rampage, bringing forward more Phalanxes to throw down a shield wall. Behind Griff, he heard the stomping boots of more reinforcements rushing into the square to shore up the defences.

Then there was a lithe, cloaked figure rushing past Griff, and Hecaton was sliding underneath the storm of fire, coming to a halt beside Elena's fallen form. He snatched her handcannon up in one hand and hurried to reload it even as Scarlett materialised above its owner, her single eye wide in worry.

"Elena?" the little machine tried as her beam began to scan the smoking crater punched clean through plasteel plating and inner circuitry. "Elena? Oh no…"

"Let's get you both out of here first!" yelled Hecaton, firing the handcannon from his prone position. He shot off the head of an approaching Centurion, then switched aim and shot down a pair of Feral Psions that crawled close across the front facing wall of a nearby store. Then Sasha was suddenly beside him, wrapping her hands beneath Elena's arms and hauling her backwards as Scarlett decided it was safer for her to be elsewhere, and she vanished in a flash of light. Then Talbot was beside Hecaton as well, adding his own gunfire into the fusillade, cutting down more of the enemy.

Slug fire tore up the ground on either side of Sasha as she pulled the wounded Warlock back within range of the defence line, and then suddenly there was another Hunter she didn't recognise and a pair of Frames who were there, taking hold of Elena and hoisting her up off of the floor, carrying her away from the chaos. Another bright flash of discharginging arc energy flared at the far end of the market, and they could see that determined blur of energy resolve itself back into the familiar form of Logan, who almost collapsed on the spot from sheer exhaustion, his cloak torn and shredded.

"This is our moment! Defenders of the City, _now!_ "

Then suddenly a group of nearly twenty Guardians was pouring into the ruins from the right, lead by one of the Vanguard leaders. Zavala was at the very forefront of the rushing group, his exposed features twisted into a mask of serene anger. They rushed right towards where Logan was slumped, as more Phalanxes closed in to finish him off. But they didn't get within twelve feet, as the sheer hail of fire coming their way made them think better of it, and they were getting pushed back instead. While Zavala hurtled past Logan at the head of half a dozen Titans to press the attack, Griff ran to Logan, putting a hand underneath his armpit and pulling him upright.

"Damn Logan, it's a miracle that didn't burn you out from the inside," Griff said.

"Wh-what happened to-?" was all Logan could get out in response, still delirious.

"She's fine, she's fine," assured Griff, above the sheer noise as he started to guide his friend back towards safety. "Thanks to your borderline-suicidal strategy, of course." Logan tried to say something else, but he was unceremoniously dumped onto the flagstones beside where the others were gathered around Elena, who still had that ugly wound in her chest.

"It's very bad," Hecaton explained unecessarily, as behind them, something large exploded. They all ducked briefly as shards of rubble and shrapnel scattered all around them, then straightened up. "We've already called in an evac to the field hospital. Doctor Chell's there, she'll know what to do."

"She damn well better," growled Griff as he suddenly appeared at Hecaton's shoulder, gazing down on his fallen friend. "Otherwise I'll go out there and tear off Bas'Arlang's head with my own hands." Logan said nothing in reply to that, while at the edge of the ruins more explosions were happening as Zavala bought his uncaged fury down on the Planet Crackers.

Logan suddenly felt a weak grip on his wrist, and he looked down at his mortally wounded friend. Her head was turning towards him slowly, almost imperceptibly. His eyes widened and he took hold of her other hand, squeezing gently. "El," he said.

"Logan"- she just about managed, her weak voice coming over his comms link, so it sounded as if she were whispering directly into his ear.

"Save your strength," he insisted, over the comms. "Just let us get you to safety"-

"Arvo," she said, interrupting him. "It was Arvo…he was…next to me…and he…left"-

"Left you where?" Logan asked. "Left you where, Elena? Elena!" But she was already passing out, even as more Support Frames were arriving to get her to safety.

"Let them do their job, Logan," said Griff, and Logan took a hesitant step backwards, even though there were questions aplenty pinging around inside his head. But then behind him, something large exploded again, and chips of stone and concrete rained down across the courtyard.

"Looks like Zavala kicked them out for now," Hecaton observed. The rattle of gunfire and the bellowing of alien throats could be heard.

"Well that's all well and good but they're still pouring in over the walls," Kal interjected, projecting a hologram of the city's layout out before them as shell-shocked and battered Guardians began to pull back to what little cover remained in the courtyard, the dust laying across their heads and shoulders making it look as though they were wearing white mantles.

"Then I guess we need to get back to it," Logan said wearily, as Elena was ferried away to safety. Then he looked across at Griff who was reloading his rifle with the last magazine he had on him.

"Guess so," the Titan said grimly.

"That's putting it mildly," Hecaton said, looking back towards the Tower, where a number of Cabal ships were advancing unopposed, decimating everything in their way. "The Planet Crackers are starting to drop troops right behind our lines, and the Frame militia won't be able to hold them off for very long. Then they can take their time rolling over us."

"So you suggest we just give up?" asked Griff sharply.

"No of course not, but unless something miraculous happens we are so far up"-

"Wait!" barked Kal suddenly, overrirding the comms of every Guardian in the immediate vicinity with a squeal of static. "Wait! I'm picking up a sudden _massive_ build up of energy!"

"Where from?" Logan demanded, "because if it's from the main guns of that cruiser, we're screwed"-

"No! None of the Cabal fleet! It's coming from the Traveller!"

* * *

From the outside, no-one would have noticed the brief, almost imperceptible flickering of lights from inside of the Traveller's white shell, but every single Ghost within six miles suddenly picked up on an overwhelming rush of energy emanating from the massive sphere, and then the Cabal's ships were dropping like stones out of the sky.

One second they were indiscriminately levelling everything in site with great flashes of plasma energy or the thudding explosions of massive shells that vaporised entire habitat blocks in eruptions of dust and debris, and then the next second all of their lights went out in a single blink and they just dropped straight down. Gravity was uncompromising as it hauled the Cabal's vessels out of the air and straight down, crunching down onto the rooftops and spires of intact buildings, or even down onto existing piles of rubble throwing up huge palls of dust that threatened to blot out the sun.

Cayde and Eli were hunched low in the ruins of a market stall when one of the heavy ships went down less than half a mile away, hard enough to shake the ground as if the entire earth was being upheaved and shatter every last intact window in the immediate vicinity. Then the dust cloud rolled in along the street and blasted into the store, blinding them briefly. But it also caught the Planet Cracker foot troops outside off guard, and they heard the grunting and bleating of a dozen confused aliens.

"Drop them!" Cayde barked out suddenly, and then there was the terrific sound of the Guardians around him opened up at once, cutting the Cabal down in a single sustained salvo. And then all was quiet, as the cacophony rolled away. Shell casings rolled an tinkled in the dust, and empty rifle magazines were dumped onto the floor. "Alright…I think we're good for now," the Hunter Vanguard sighed.

"What the hell was that?" asked Sasha, brushing some black dust off of her armour.

"The Cabal ships…looks like they just dropped out of the sky," replied Skye, a young Warlock holding a hand over a recent tear in her robes on her left arm. She was standing just out on the street, staring at a point to the south-west.

"They did what now?" asked Cayde, joining her outside. He followed her gaze to where they could see the dark smoke rising from the partially-crumpled ruin of a Cabal assault ship, sitting atop the rubble of a twin habitat block. Similar smoke pillars could be seen rising elsewhere over the nearby rooftops. "Well," Cayde continued, "that's interesting."

At the moment the Cabal ships fell, all of the lights and the power inside the Vanguard Hall went out as well, plunging them into brief darkness, lit only by the blinking lights of the support Frames that were present, and the occasional Ghost shining its little light beam.

"Get the emergency power up!" barked Ikora Ray, just as there was a dull thud from somewhere deep within the walls and then the lights and the other power sources cycled back on. There was light sigh of relief from the Guardians present, and then when the main holographic display flickered back on, they could see how much had changed in an instant.

"The Cabal's ships are grounded," Ikora whispered, as the blinking red runes which had marked incoming threats had now blinked out of existence, instead marked by greyed-out icons which indicated crash sites across the City: still well inside the walls, but now no longer active threats. "It's almost as if their engines and other power sources were cut off suddenly."

"Our sensors are detecting a sudden power surge emanating from the Traveller," one of the Frames intoned, "at the exact moment that our power sources went off and the Cabal vessels were grounded. The signature is similar to that of an Electromagnetic Pulse, but at a much stronger output than anything humanity has ever witnessed."

"From the Traveller?" asked Ikora, her usual cool manner somewhat disturbed. "How is that even possible?"

"Unknown," the Frame responded. "Further units are reporting from the Speaker's study…it appears as though the Speaker passed out."

In the spacious study, a pair of Frames helped the white robed Speaker to stand. One second, he had been stood on his balcony, staring out over the veastation that was tearing its way towards the Tower, and then the next he had suddenly seized up, and then he had collapsed sideways to the floor. The only other beings in the vicinity to aid had been a pair of Frames and a runner who had been on his way to relay the situation to the Speaker. Said runner had gone rushing back to the Vanguard Hall in an instance, as the Frames went to help.

"Oh my," the Speaker managed as he finally found his feet, gripping the railing to steady himself. "The Traveller…it knows. It knows the Cabal have come to take it. It was defending itself. Just…defending itself. And us all…it's defenders."

* * *

"She's stable…or as stable as I can manage," announced Doctor Chell finally, leaning back from the cot. Her gloved hands were glistening with lubricant and other vital fluids.

Elena-3 was laid out on said cot, after Chell and two other doctors had battled for a good two hours to get the Exo stabilised, hooked up to an emergency power supply and seal the worst of the internal damage, before applying a nano salve to the rest of her injuries to allow the miniature miracles to do their magic. There was no sound within the small, curtained-off room, save for the steady buzz of the emergency power generator keeping the Exo alive, and the bustle of the doctors clearing away their equipment, snapping off their gloves.

Logan and Griff stood off to the side, staring at their friend. The wound in her chest was so severe you could literally put your hand inside of her chest cavity, or even reach right through if you wished. They had both seen her come back from all manner of injuries in the past – the kind that would have easily killed a fragile human or Awoken – but nothing like this. It was a miracle she wasn't killed outright.

"Doc…I-I don't even know how to thank you," Griff said finally.

"Your thanks is enough for now," she insisted, still smiling despite the obvious strain showing on her face. "It's a good thing the one running the field hospital is a leading expert in Exo technology…well, for a human of course." Miranda Chell wasn't exactly an aged woman, but they could see the slight tremor in her hands, after labouring for nearly two hours to stabilise Elena. Despite her trying to keep a brave face on things, she was suffering in her own way.

"We still appreciate it doc," Logan smiled. Chell just bowed her head slightly in thanks, then she turned and left the room, leaving the Guardians alone. At that moment, Scarlett materialised and began to orbit Elena slowly, her little beam scanning away, her eye plates furrowed into a worried 'frown'.

"Doctor Chell is correct," the little machine said, deflated. "All we can do now is wait, and cross our fingers, as your kind is so fond of saying," she then continued, glancing at Logan.

"Yes," he said wearily. He'd stripped out of most of his armour and clothing, leaving him in just his pants and a soft leather sleeveless jerkin. "Yes, that is what we say. But I'd say we need more than luck after today."

He glanced over his shoulder, looking into the depths of the largely intact warehouse the Guardians had requisitioned as a field hospital and forward operating base. Crates of equipment and vendor units had been hauled in by Frames and Titans, allowing the weary defenders to resupply and repair their equipment before they inevitably went out into the fight once again. Most of the floor space was taken up by row upon row of medical cots, many of them serving as a temporary resting space for dozens of Guardians, many of the newer ones still too shell-shocked to move from where they were laid out. Despite the impression of a safe place, the rattle and boom of nearby battle could still be heard.

"Reinforcements would be nice," Griff added, stepping out into the main, cavernous space. He approached a huddle of Gurdians he knew, striking up a quick conversation as they both caught one another up on what was going on and what had happened. No matter where you looked, the news was grim. The Cabal fleet might have been grounded following some miraculous intervention from the Traveller, but there were still plenty of Cabal out on the streets, edging closer and closer to the Tower. And the Support Frame militia had been essentially crippled in the first couple of hours, so it was all back onto the Guardians.

There was a commotion from the entrance, and Logan looked up in time to see a handful of ragged, dust-covered Guardians striding into the warehouse. Cayde-6 was leading them, an easy swagger in his step despite his torn clothing. He saw Logan at a glance and just tilted his chin up in a subtle gesture of greeting, which Logan returned, as the other Guardians began to fan out. He saw Eli and Sasha among the throng, both as haggard and shocked as Cayde was, but still upright.

Pushing himself upright, Logan crossed right to them, threading around and past other milling Guardians until he was within range. Eli turned to face Logan soon as he got within a few feet, and his shoulders seemed to relax, just ever so slightly. "Logan," he said finally. "Good to see your still in one piece."

"Likewise," nodded Logan. "But Elena took a serious hit."

There was a few beats of silence, and Eli blinked, in surprise. It was probably the most obvious reaction he could have mustered on the spot. "How?"

"The Planet Crackers were storming the entrance plaza," Logan explained, as Sasha came up to listen in to the conversation. She'd always got on fairly well with Elena. "There were too many of them. She got cut off, and…well, you can for yourself," he finished, indicating behind him towards the curtained room where Elena was laid up.

"Oh my," said Orrick, appearing in a flash of light, buzzing towards Elena's room. "The damage she's sustained…it's a miracle that she still lives."

"Can say that again," sighed Logan, rubbing his face with one hand. "Good thing Zavala picked that moment to intervene." As he finished, Sasha was already walking away, towards Elena's room. She just stood there for a while, looking down at her friend's still form initially, and then she sat down quietly beside the cot.

"You'll be lucky to get more than a dozen words out of Sasha on any given day," Eli observed, "but for some reason, she and Elena just resonate. She'll never say a word about it, but she cares for that Exo."

"Speaking of Exos," interrupted Logan, "where's Arvo?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Eli shrugged with a blank expression. "He wasn't with us on the walls. Last we saw he was heading back to his quarters so he could get himself ready for what was coming."

"Oh, I know," Logan said, "he was with us in the plaza. He was fighting right beside Elena, as it happens: I saw it with my own eyes, and his signal was pinged on my tracker. Then he vanished right when the shit hit the fan, and next thing we know she's down. Haven't seen him since."

"I don't really like what you're suggesting, Logan," said Eli carefully, a note of a threat in his voice.

"Then where is he, Eli?" Logan shot back, not in the mood for any of Elijah's hostility. "It's drummed into us how the Fireteam sticks together, no matter what. So where the hell is he? Why hasn't be linked up with the two of you yet? Or any of the other Fireteams, for that matter? Because he knows he screwed up and nearly got a fellow Guardian killed. The Vanguard leaders hear about that, and his career's in serious trouble."

Eli was quiet for a long moment while he took all this in, and even though his grey eyes continued to bore a hole through Logan, the latter could see the slightest flicker of doubt in there, that one of his trusted companions could leave someone for dead.

"Arvo would never do that," he insisted. "He can be an ass, sure, but he'd never abandon another Guardian."

"Well he did, Eli. And you better hope you find him first before Griff or myself do," Logan finished, then turned away. Eli watched after him for a while, exhaling a long, drawn out breath through his nose. Then he turned away and raised a hand to his forehead, letting out a low sigh. Today had been testing enough, without having one of his own Fireteam nearly get someone he know killed.

Then he looked over towards one of the shadowed corners, and saw a familiar pair of glowing yellow eyes gazing out at him. He stared for a moment, and then approached quickly. "Arvo?" he asked, soon as he was within range. "Where the hell have you been?!"

"Nearly buried alive under rubble, naturally," the Exo replied. His clothing was caked in concrete dust and ragged and torn in places, while his face plating was showing the odd dent as well. "Took me until now to get digged out by some passing Titans."

"You sure about that?" asked Eli bluntly.

Arvo hesitated slightly before responding. "What's that supposed to mean, Eli?"

"If you didn't notice, I was just talking to Logan there," Eli replied clamly, "and he said you left Elena-3 to be almost killed by Cabal back there in the plaza."

"What?" asked Arvo, suppressing a disbelieving laugh. "You honestly believe that?"

"I don't know Arvo," Eli replied, "why didn't you check in sooner? If you got separated because of something outsider your control, why didn't you just come out and tell someone?"

"Are you serious, Eli?" Arvo growled. "It's hell out there, I barely made it back in one piece, and you're giving me shit over something that was outside of my control?"

"Was it though?" Eli countered. "Logan said you were right beside her, Arvo. So what the hell happened?"

* * *

Outside of Elena's room, Logan and Griff had reconvened again. They both looked utterly exhausted, which was quite an achievement considering they were both Guardians. The Raid to slay Oryx had been bad enough, but this had just been relentless. "What's the word from the others?" Logan asked eventually.

"They're being hammered as bad as the rest of us," Griff sighed. "Plenty of people I knew have had their Light extinguished for good. Plenty of lonely Ghosts left over."

"Shit," Logan said. Then a she looked out over the ranks of weary and battered Guardians, he felt the incoming dread of how his friend would react to the upcoming revelation. "Griff…"

"What is it?" asked the Titan.

"About Elena…Arvo was right next to her before she got knocked down, and he disappeared."

"…what do you mean he disappeared?" asked Griff, incredulous.

"He was there, and then he wasn't," Logan explained. "She told me as much before she passed out, and then Eli or Sasha haven't seen him since everything went down."

"So…what?" asked Griff, shrugging his huge shoulders. "You're saying one of our own abandoned a comrade to certain death? Not possible."

"Griff…"

"I know Arvo's a smug bastard at the worst of times, but even he wouldn't leave a fellow Guardian on their own on the battlefield, would he?" Griff argued. He glanced towards Elena's room again. Sasha was still sat beside her, utterly silent. Her own Ghost, Praxis, circled the cot beside Scarlett.

"I don't know for sure Griff, but we should ask him when we see him…if he ever shows his face again."

Logan has just finished that sentence when he realised Griff was looking past him, over his shoulder into the warehouse depths. He followed his friend's gaze, and he saw Eli…in conversation with Arvo, the latter holding his arms close around him like a protective barrier. Then he looked over towards the two of them and his expression just failed on the spot. Eli turned as well, but by then Griff was already marching across to them, fists clenched. Logan could practically taste the hate coming off of him.

"Aw hell," muttered Logan, hurrying forwards, even as several pairs of eyes turned to face the sudden noise being produced.

"What the hell happened?" Griff said through a clenched jaw, getting right into Arvo's face. Arvo jerked away, yellow eyes widening in shock. "What the hell happened out there, Arvo?!"

"What?" asked Arvo, surprised. "Come on Griff"-

"Don't 'Griff' me you bastard!" Griff yelled, drawing the attention of several other Guardians within the hall, and a small crowd was gathering. Logan was sure he had never seen the Awoken raise his voice to such a level. "You were both out there – within _inches_ of each other – and you just left here to be killed! There were nearly a dozen Phalanxes bearing down on that position and you just damn well left her for dead!"

"What?" sneered Arvo, his arrogance coming out again despite the situation, "you think I was going to waste my life fighting a lost cause?"

"Oh, so you're more valuable than Elena is?" Griff continued, his voice strained. "Just because you've been around longer? You've provided more to the City, to the Vanguard? Bullshit such as that? I swear Arvo, that rod up your ass gets bigger by the day!"

"Whatever. You weren't even there, Griff"-

"She told us that you just abandoned her, Arvo. And I'd believe her over you any day!"

"She said that?" Arvo asked.

"Yes, she did."

"Well in that case she's a lying bitch."

Griff's fist smashed into Arvo's face with such force that those watching thought – for a few horrendous moments – that he was dead. His head jerked back with a crunch of plasteel against exoskeleton plating, and then Arvo was flung back and smashed against the wall behind him with enough force to crack the stone. It all happened in the space of a second and a half, as Eli's head whipped around to follow Arvo's flight path, and the Exo was already smashed into the wall.

"Not in here!" cried Doctor Chell from the other side of the room, but she was in no position to step in directly as a small crowd gathered around

Then Griff was on Arvo again, one gauntlet gripping him by the throat and the other raining blows down into his face and chest, each landing with a resounding _thunk_ and the crunch of metal giving way. Arvo was making choking, inarticulate sounds with his mouth that sounded as though he were crying _'Stop, stop!'_ over and over again. Logan and Eli stormed forwards and wrapped their arms around Griff, attempting to tear the enraged Titan off of Arvo. They hauled him backwards a couple feet and he lashed out with his legs, kicking wildly. Then Sasha and two other Titans who had been watching the confrontation joined in and between them they just about managed to pull Griff away between the five of them. Arvo was practically curled against the wall by then, his arms up as he continued to beg for his life.

"What the hell is going on here?!" demanded Doctor Chell, pushing her way through the crowd, but then she saw Arvo crumpled against the wall, saw the state of his face, and said nothing more.

"Y-y-you all saw that!" screamed Arvo, his face badly warped from a flurry of enraged blows and his voice strained and distorted. "He attacked me! Unprovoked too! I want him arrested!"

"You bastard!" screamed Griff in response, lunging forwards, though the five Guardians holding him kept him anchored, just about. "It should have been you! You hear me?! It should have been you! She could die because of what happened, because of you!"

"I want him detained!" Arvo screeched again, incredulous to the looks of disdain and disgust he was being subjected to from those present.

"Man up and grow some fucking balls, Arvo," growled Logan, glaring at the wounded warlock, and then turning to focus on Griff. "Chill, Griffin!"

"I'm good, _I'm good!_ " Griff snapped, tearing himself free from the grip of his comrades and walking away a short distance, hands raised, though they still kept a wall of bodies between him and Arvo, who had risen to his feet by now, leaning heavily against of wall. Then there was a bustle of activity and the crowd parted in time to let Commander Zavala and a handful of his elite guard push through. Still clad in his pitted and scrred armour, his face wore a mask of fury.

"What is going on here?!" he roared, and several Guardians visibly backed off or avoided direct eye contact. None of them had ever seen the Commander show such open fury, but then again they had just seen Griff doing the exact same not too long ago. No-one dared to speak up, or even meet the Commander's harsh glare. Except Arvo, that is.

"He attacked me!" the Exo yelled, pointing furiously. "He just attacked me! Unprovoked, and he could have killed me! I want him charged. I want him expelled from the City!"

"Shut up," growled Eli, but it was already too late as Zavala's eyes came to rest upon them briefly, and then glanced back at Griff.

"Is this true?" asked Zavala, looking over at Griff. The Titan said nothing, though the big, heaving motions of his shoulders spoke volumes anyway.

"I didn't see anything," Logan lied, his face completely straight. Arvo glared at him.

"Me neither," said one of the other Titans who had pulled Griff clear.

"Or me," said another Guardian in the crowd.

"Me neither," said Sasha, prompting a quick glance from both Eli and Arvo. There was a long moment of silence as all eyes lingered on the members of Fireteam Opal.

The Commander glanced at Doctor Chell, who just looked at him directly and then slowly shook her head before turning away. She wasn't exactly Arvo's biggest fan to begin with. Zavala frowned as he looked around at the surrounding faces. "Are there going to be anymore issues?" he asked levelly. "Because the real enemy is outside of our City walls – and even inside them now – and we need to focus our energies there and not upon each other. Is that clear?" They all nodded as one, and then the Commander and his guard walked out promptly, sweeping out through the open main doors.

Griff looked at Logan and let out a heavy sigh, and retreated to Elena's room, shoulders sagging. All around them the other Guardians retreated to their own business, leaving Arvo standing there, hunched and pathetic, beside the cracked wall. Even Eli and Sasha were glaring at him with disgust.

"So you did leave her behind, then?" Eli asked Arvo finally. His viscous glare and silence spoke volumes.

Then Logan walked up to him and landed his own punch against the corner of Arvo's jaw. It didn't land with as much impact as Griff's fists had done, but it was hard enough to turn his head away. Arvo turned back with an angry growl building in his throat, but stopped dead when he realised the tip of Logan's knife hovered just a half inch away from his throat.

"You're lucky I didn't let Griff beat on you some more," he explained, his voice low and calm. "After pulling that crap. You see what happened there, don't you Arvo? You rubbed half of the Tower up the wrong way with your high and mighty act and none of them would vouch for you as a result. But Zavala is right: we need to help each other out, not fight amongst ourselves. You deserved a lot more than what Griff gave you, but know this Arvo...You call Elena a bitch again and I'll gut you like a fish. Even all of that body plating and fancy tech won't stop me."

Then he withdrew his knife, sheathed it, and turned on his heel to walk away. Arvo watched him go, and then he shot a venomous glare at Elijah. "Thanks for backing me up, chief," he said sarcastically.

"You're out of the Fireteam, Arvo," Eli said, not missing a beat. Arvo blinked in surprise, as if barely registering what had just been said.

"What?"

"You heard me," snapped Eli, looking him in the eye. "If you didn't think twice about leaving Elena behind, then what's stopping you from leaving one of us for dead?"

"Elijah, I would never"-

"You know what Arvo? I just don't believe you. I've bitten my tongue, and I've put up with your damned ego for this long, but no more. You want to keep fighting for the Traveller, then find another Fireteam, if any of them will even take you on after the shit you've pulled. Otherwise…I wasn't nothing more to do with you Arvo." And with that, Eli and Sasha turned as one and walked away, leaving the battered and barely-standing Arvo-16 to his own bruised ego and eternal shame.

 **A/N: And so Arvo gets his commupence. Personally I feel that any douchebag in the world is due a visit from karma sooner or later, and Arvo happened to get his while the City's under attack. But as always, R & R please. I appreciate any and all feedback from you guys. **


End file.
